


viva (my life started to shine)

by zimriya



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Therapy, neither of them are good at feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 09:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10357494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya
Summary: Kyungjae-hyung closes the van door behind them, hands them each pamphlets, and informs them that they'll be attending weekly couple’s counseling in between tour prep and the tour itself. “She’s American, she speaks fluent Korean, and she’s very discreet,” he explains, voice deceptively calm. “Here is her business card.”“What. The fuck?” says Yunho, and for once Changmin doesn’t say anything, because that about sums it up.What the fuck indeed.





	1. june 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Me, naively** : Look at this [post](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/158414001100/adamantsteve-undercover-married-au-where-your-otp). Someone should write a fic where SM sends 2012 Homin to couple’s counseling to fix their relationship
> 
>  **Scar (and also Poppy in another convo)** : YES
> 
>  **Also me, opening a word document, consulting a timeline, deciding on a time period** : It’s me I’m the person
> 
>  
> 
> _You’re all fucking welcome._
> 
>  
> 
> Title from my favorite song on _Catch Me_ b/c it felt apt. Betaed by Scar. All other mistakes are my own. Assume direct translation. ENJOY.

**viva (my life started to shine)**

\--

 **one.** _june 2012_

\--

It starts when Changmin walks in on Kyungjae-hyung and some other staff watching what appears to be a YouTube recording of their 2012 SM Town press con in Anaheim. 

“--didn’t speak to him for the whole flight,” one of them is in the middle of saying, as another nods and adds, “and the microphone,” and Kyungjae-hyung purses his lips and says, “also the fans have definitely noticed.”

Changmin clears his throat.

The entire room slows to a halt, heads swinging around to look at him.

On the computer, Changmin watches himself stumble through an awkward answer to an awkward question, eyes very wide, posture very nervous, and Yunho a stone wall beside him.

On-screen Changmin shoots on-screen Yunho a truly pitiful look.

Real-life Changmin opens and closes his mouth.

One of the managers very kindly mutes the computer.

“Erm,” says Changmin. “I’ll just come back later then.”

And then he turns on his heel and hightails it out of there as fast as his legs can carry him. Never mind why he’d been looking for Kyungjae-hyung in the first place. If Yunho wants to do another practice run of ‘The Way You Are’ into ‘Mirotic’ then they’ll just do another practice run of ‘The Way You Are’ into ‘Mirotic’\--no way Changmin is staying in that room for another second.

And that would have been the end of it, if Kyungjae-hyung hadn’t been the one to answer Yunho’s phone when Changmin called him two days later, lost in Incheon airport because he walked too fast and wasn’t keeping his eyes on Yunho.

Kyungjae-hyung sounds exhausted, if not annoyed, and Changmin is offended for a quick second, because it takes two to get lost in an airport and obviously Yunho should have said something instead of ignoring Changmin and going off wherever he’s gone.  

Obviously.

He says as much, trying not to sound too livid, and Kyungjae-hyung sighs, but trades the phone over to Yunho when he asks in the background, anyway.

“Hyung,” says Changmin, only half serious, and Yunho sighs as well.

“Where are you, Changmin?” he says.

They regroup near the bathroom the two of them had vanished off towards, and for a second Changmin thinks Yunho’s going to do something stupid like clap him on the back all macho-like. Or call him Changdol. But something of that must show on his face, because the older man just flicks his bangs out of the way of his glasses and switches his bag to his other hand, before filing off towards their gate.

Changmin follows, jaw tight.

Kyungjae-hyung falls into step beside him, mouth set in a hard line, and Changmin ignores him for all of three steps. “Changmin-ah,” the man says. “You really can’t do things like that. Think of the fans.”

 _Think of your lack of security detail_ , is what he really means, and Changmin only barely manages to scowl at him. “It won’t happen again.”

And it doesn’t. In fact Changmin would go so far to say that he and Yunho are pretty decent to each other during their entire stay in Hong Kong. The performance goes off well, there are no costume mishaps, and no one goes screaming out of their hotel room over a wet bathroom floor or misused toothpaste.

Changmin only suffers one stress induced headache the entire day, which is actually quite impressive, given that Yunho’s started to put his feet up in the car _just_ to piss Changmin off.

So when Kyungjae-hyung closes the door to their van behind them two days later, hands them each pamphlets and informs them that they’ll be attending weekly couple’s counseling in between tour/album prep and tour/album promotion itself, Changmin’s feeling pretty damn attacked.

“What. The fuck?” says Yunho, tonelessly, and for once, Changmin doesn’t say anything, because that about sums everything up.

What the _fuck_ indeed.

Kyungjae-hyung carries on, unfazed. “We’ve hired someone already,” he explains. “She’s American--”

Changmin feels his head start to pound.

“--and also very discreet--”

His ears seem to be ringing.

“--and fluent in Korean,” finishes Kyungjae-hyung, before Changmin can say anything. “The company will be flying her in for your first session before you’re due in Japan.” There’s a small pause. “Here is her business card.”

He hands it over.

Changmin takes one for himself and passes another to Yunho.

 _Ms. Huang_ the thing reads in English. _Licensed therapist and marriage counselor_. She’s got flowers on her business card. The entire thing smells like perfume. Changmin has no idea what to fucking say.  

Luckily, Yunho seems to have finally unfrozen. He takes the card from Changmin’s still outstretched hand. “I’m very thankful for you and the company’s concern, Kyungjae-ssi,” he says in his leader voice, head half-bowed and tone quiet. “But that won’t be necessary. Changminnie and I don't have a relationship.”

His hair is covering his eyes.

Changmin thinks: ‘why don’t I get an honorific’ and ‘what do you mean ‘don’t have a relationship’ you _asshole_ ’ and says, “What the fuck?” like a broken echo.  

Kyungjae-hyung darts a look between the two of them, almost looking relieved, and Changmin schools his features in a hurry.

“I mean yes,” he says quickly. “What Yunho-hyung said.” He meets Kyungjae-hyung’s eyes. “No relationship whatsoever.”

There’s a beat. Kyungjae-hyung stares back at the two of them, before heaving a long sigh. “That’s the entire problem,” he says finally. “It’s been nearly two years since you debuted--”

“--Nine,” breathes Yunho, and Changmin suddenly hates him--

“--Nine,” amends Kyungjae-hyung without pausing. “I mean as a duo.”

Yunho allows that, shrugging.

Kyungjae-hyung is starting to look more committed by the second. “It’s been two years since you debuted as a duo,” he says.

Changmin compares the two moments, and, as always, comes out with 2011’s _Music Bank_ as the more terrifying and nerve-wracking one.

Kyungjae-hyung keeps speaking. “The fans are starting to notice,” he finishes finally.

Changmin has a horrible moment of déjà vu. “Is this because of Anaheim?” he asks, heart suddenly racing. “Because that wasn’t my fault--Hyung’s the one who acted like I’d murdered his entire family over one stupid argument--”

“This is not about Anaheim,” interrupts Kyungjae-hyung, finally sounding strained, and he shoots Changmin a rather pointed ‘watch yourself’ look before turning back to Yunho, who has gone very quietly cold in the seat next to Changmin.

Changmin closes his mouth.

“This is about it having been two years of ‘love and war’ as you so wonderfully put it.” Kyungjae-hyung uses air quotes, the asshole; Changmin decides they need to hire a new manager. “The fans are fine now, but if this continues, they’ll get bored.”

“I think the fans enjoy the love and war stuff the most, actually,” says Changmin, voice sharp and eyes hard. “Given how receptive they were to that ridiculous skit you had us do for the entirety of Tone.”

This entire conversation is giving him hives, as well as horrific flashbacks back to the Tone tour pre-meetings where they got roped into Bibari and Rui in the first place. They haven’t quite finished work on the album itself at present, but Changmin knows they’re going to tour the world with it. There’s been discussion of Los Angeles, even, and Changmin draws the line at more fanservice.

He glowers.

Kyungjae-hyung seems unbothered. “That’s entirely my point,” he says. “The fans enjoy it now because it’s new, and it’s your thing.” He says the last bit quickly, before Changmin can interject, and then pauses, seemingly trying to find words. “It won’t be funny anymore after a few more years.”

Changmin thinks that’s absurd--the fans love the love and hate stuff more than anything--but before he can say anything, Yunho finally speaks.

“So you’re saying how we display our relationship isn’t to your standards,” he says, voice still leader perfect and quiet.

The car definitely goes several degrees colder.

“I thought we didn’t have a relationship,” says Changmin, like an idiot, trying to dispel the tension and drive the conversation solidly away from the elephant in the room.

This time Kyungjae-hyung does glare at him, but only half-heartedly, since no doubt he’s realized where Yunho is going with this and wants nothing to do with the landmine that is Yunjae either.

“We’re saying that your relationship is starting to affect everyone around you,” the man snaps, sounding about two months done. “So you will be seeing Huang-ssi and you will fix it. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” says Yunho, and pulls out his headphones.

They don’t speak the entire flight back to Korea.

\--

Kyuhyun thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his life. 

Changmin’s only gathered him and Minho, because as the oldest and longest running members of Kyuline, they understand his long suffering relationship with Yunho the most. They’ve also known Changmin the longest, through his worst and worser moments, so they’re most likely to not only help him laugh the situation off with alcohol, but probably won’t try to be sympathetic and do things like hug him. Or whatever. Changmin is growing to be incredibly fond of their EXO additions, but there’s still a touch too much hero-worship for him to be entirely comfortable around them.

Of course at present, given that his oldest and most cherished friend can’t seem to stop laughing at his expense, Changmin thinks that maybe he should have just gone to EXO. All of EXO. Even the members of EXO who seem annoyed by the hero-worship.

Junmyeon would have patted him on the back; Kyuhyun hasn’t patted him on the back once.

“Couple’s counseling!” Kyuhyun finally manages to say, in between voracious bouts of laughter. “Lee Sooman wants to send you and Yunho-hyung to _couple’s counseling_!”

“Lee Sooman- _seongsaengnim_ ,” Changmin corrects, more than a little put off. “And I really don’t think he specifically--”

“ _Couple’s counseling!_ ” interrupts Kyuhyun, without a care in the world. “ _For you and Yunho-hyung_!”

Changmin levels him a sour look. “Are you going to be like this for the entire time? Because I have other friends in my life that I can promote up to best friend status. Like Minho. Minho-yah!”

Minho turns to look at him, his face the picture of composure. “Yes, Hyung?” he says, informal, and manages to last all of five seconds before he’s joining Kyuhyun, sprawled out across the Super Junior dorm table among the soju bottles and shot glasses, laughing himself to weeping.

Changmin steals the soju bottle out of his hand and scowls. “Both of you suck,” he says.

“Aw, Chwang, don’t be like that,” says Kyuhyun, wiping tears--actual _tears_ \--from his eyes. “We wouldn’t want Lee Sooman-seongsaengnim to send the two of _us_ to couple’s therapy!”

He gets through one serious nod, before a quick glance at Minho has the two of them off laughing again.

“You _suck_ ,” repeats Changmin darkly, and downs a shot.

\--

“No, but, tell me again,” says Kyuhyun, several shots later. “What does Lee Sooman-seongsaengnim want you to do?”

Changmin is far too drunk to handle this. “Kyu,” he whines. “I want to go to sleep.”

“No, no, no, no.” Kyuhyun pats him across the face with every word. “No. Wait. Chwangmin.” He butches Changmin’s name horribly. “What does Lee Sooman-seongsaengnim want you to do again?”

“Kyu,” whines Changmin.

“Couple’s counseling,” says Minho, sounding exhausted. “Kyuhyun-hyung…”

Kyuhyun goes to pat Changmin in the face but ends up basically socking him in the jaw.

“Ow,” says someone, and Changmin blinks, confused. It wasn’t him. Or was it him?

He frowns.

And then tilts his head around so he can look and see who’s spoken.

Hyukjae-hyung, obviously dressed for bed, and Donghae-hyung--who Changmin thinks lives upstairs??--are standing in the doorway staring at the lot of them.

“Hyung,” says Changmin, for both of them, and waves. “I’m tired.”

“Wow,” says Hyukjae-hyung, at the same time Donghae-hyung smiles beatifically at Changmin.

Changmin grins back, fully aware his eyes have gone all mismatched.

“Hyungs,” greets Kyuhyun, patting Changmin one last time on the face. “Hyungs, guess what.”

“What?” says Donghae-hyung, around a yawn.

Hyukjae-hyung narrows his eyes at the three of them. “Yah, Choi Minho,” he says. “Don’t you have a performance tomorrow? Am I going to get hell from Kibum?”

Minho shoots them both a guilty look. “I’m not actually that drunk,” he protests. “I had like maybe two sips.”

Changmin thinks about that, gets a headache, but determines that’s about right. Minho’s mostly actually tried to console him while fending off Kyuhyun’s wandering fingers.

“’s true,” he tells Hyukjae-hyung.

The older man sighs. “I’m guessing the three of you are staying with Kyu tonight?” he says.

Changmin grins, thoughts of bed warming his heart. “Bed,” he says.

“Yeah,” says Kyuhyun suddenly, and then, “wait no Hyukie-hyung.”

Hyukjae-hyung repeats the nickname back to him under his breath, looking bemused.

“Guess what Lee Sooman-seongsaengnim wants Changminnie and Yunho-hyung to do.”

There’s a beat.

“How is he still saying that correctly?” asks Donghae-hyung at last.

“Yah,” whines Changmin, suddenly remembering why he doesn’t want this aired. “Yah. Kyu--”

“Couple’s counseling!” crows Kyuhyun, and then topples over, fast asleep.

Changmin thinks: ‘at least the man’s going to _suffer_ hell tomorrow,’ before he joins him, settling his head across his arms and totally cuddling up to Kyuhyun for warmth purposes only.  

“Yunho-hyung is going to kill me,” he thinks he hears Hyukjae-hyung mumble, before there are very gentle hands in his hair and Changmin’s being shuffled off towards Kyuhyun’s bedroom and forced pain pills and water.

\--

“You look like shit,” says Yunho, when they arrive for their first therapy session the next day.

Changmin feels like shit, is wearing sunglasses inside the building, and he thinks both of his knees are bruising from when he walked into Kyuhyun’s bedside dresser that morning.

He’s not going to admit this to Yunho, however, so he risks his eyesight and lowers the glasses, flicks his hair out of his eyes, and glowers.

Yunho just smiles back at him, sunshine sweet. “Love you too, Changdol,” he says.

Which is of course the first thing their therapist hears when she opens the door to let them into her makeshift office. 

SM has set her up in the main building, far enough away from the dance practice rooms that they’re not going to get spied on by prying trainee eyes, but also far enough from the official offices to keep someone--probably Changmin--from attempting to murder their shareholders. 

The room is furnished with three chairs and a makeshift desk, which is really just a piano, and the overhead lighting isn’t as bad as the practice rooms, but still manages to give Changmin a headache. 

But maybe that’s just the hangover. 

Changmin pulls the sunglasses off, suddenly guilty, and tucks them into his shirt collar.

Their therapist is a small Asian looking woman, with a tiny, welcoming face, and an earnest little smile shining in the corners of her mouth. She’d normally be very pretty--very much Changmin’s type, and the almost there hint of an accent in her words when she introduces herself only further cements that--but given that she’s currently under the impression that he and Yunho are in a relationship--potentially even married, as Kyuhyun had realized three bottles in because ‘Chwang her website says she’s some sort of big shot traveling _marriage_ therapist!!!’--all the smile serves to do is make Changmin’s skin crawl.

He bows to her regardless, shooting a quick glance towards Yunho, and is annoyed to find that even though the older man very clearly finds the entire thing to be insulting and far too reminiscent of their early fan service stuff with he-who-must-not-be-named-when-one-is-hungover, he still manages to bow lower and for longer than Changmin.

“Suck up,” Changmin mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” says their therapist, smile dimming only slightly, but Yunho steps on Changmin’s foot anyway.

“It’s nice to meet you. Please take care of us,” Yunho says, with a winning smile.

Changmin bites his tongue. “Please take care of us,” he repeats.

Their therapist smiles at the both of them, appeased, and gestures them to the empty chairs, before taking a seat behind the piano.

Changmin feels a little bit like he does during album sessions, and he half expects Youngjin-hyung to jump up from behind the piano like, ‘surprise! We fooled you! How about that screaming chorus for _Catch Me?’_

Instead Huang-ssi just smiles at them again, and takes out a notepad. “Do you mind if I write as we talk?” she asks, voice gentle.

“That’s fine,” says Yunho, without waiting for Changmin, and even though it is fine and Changmin would have said the same, he scowls.

Huang-ssi jots something down on the notepad in hangul, but the combination of the pad being upside down and her tiny doctor handwriting makes it impossible for Changmin to see what.

Not that he cares, or anything.

“Why don’t you just tell me a little about yourselves,” says Huang-ssi with another bright smile. “Your home lives. How you met. Work--”

She keeps talking, but Changmin very suddenly flashes back to Kyungjae-hyung saying, ‘very discreet’ with his eyes all shifty, and finally computes: ‘doesn’t know that you’re TVXQ/famous singers.”

“What the fuck?” he says, because the hangover has destroyed his filter.

“I'm sorry?”

“What Changminnie means is we’ve known each other since 2003,” interrupts Yunho, voice pointedly sweet. “We met around Christmas.”

Huang-ssi jots that down. “School sweethearts, then?” she asks.  

Changmin feels the blood drain out of his face.

“I guess,” says Yunho, after a tiny pause. “Erm--”

“We weren’t together then,” Changmin interrupts, somewhat frantically. “I mean I was like sixteen what did I know about, uh, relationships.” His face feels hot. “And uh. Men.” 

Yunho blinks at him, mouth half open.

Changmin takes advantage of Huang-ssi’s distraction with the notepad to nudge him in the arm.

“I mean right, men,” Yunho says. “Because we are both men and we are…in a relationship and I. uh.” He breaks off. “We didn’t get together until, uh, 2010 I guess?”

“July 2009,” corrects Changmin quietly, suddenly staring at his shoes.

“August 21st, 2010, Seoul,” says Yunho, also quietly, and Changmin looks up before he can help himself.

Yunho is staring back at him, face impassive, but eyes very open, and Changmin feels his breath catch. 

“So, that’s your anniversary then?” says Huang-ssi, and Changmin feels the sentence settle over him like cold water.

“Erm, yeah,” he says. “I, uh. I guess?” 

Huang-ssi taps her pen against the page, considering. “Whose idea was the relationship?” she asks.

“His,” says Yunho and Changmin, at the same time.

There’s an awkward beat. 

“Right, his,” they both say, in perfect sync. 

Another awkward pause. 

“I don’t really remember actually,” lies Changmin, through his teeth. “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing.”

 _I couldn't leave him_ , is what he doesn’t say. And he actually finds himself wishing Yunho understood. But they haven’t been feeling very telepathic lately, not since they’ve stopped touring. 

He swallows. “It was probably his idea though,” he continues, not sure where to look. “I mean why would I have wanted--He was such a dick when we met--”

“Yah,” Yunho protests. “In 2003--“”

“Do you know what the first thing he said to me was?” Changmin’s face feels very hot but he can’t seem to get his mouth to stop moving.

“Changmin.” Yunho sounds weird, almost panicked, but not quite.

Changmin keeps going. “He told me to quit. Like I’d barely even set foot in--“

Yunho kicks him in the shin, not at all gently, and Changmin breaks off, angry, and then freezes.

Huang-ssi stares between the two of them, head tilted to one side.

“The, uh, _choir room_ ,” Changmin tests out, voice unnaturally high. “For my audition to join, the, uh. _Choir_. When Yunho-hyung--”

Huang-ssi writes something down suddenly, as quick as you like.

“--told me to, uh. Quit. Um.” Changmin doesn’t know where he was going with this anymore.

“But that was 2003,” says Yunho, seeming apologetic for once, as opposed to just being bemused and a little bit pissed, like he usually is when Changmin tells this story. “I got over it. I--”

He swallows, throating bobbing, and Changmin follows the dip of his Adam’s apple blatantly, well aware Huang-ssi is writing that down as well.

“Did you really not want to....” Yunho trails off, searching for a suitable stand in. “Continue with me?”

Changmin laughs loudly, before Huang-ssi can get a word in edgewise. “He means date,” he says, voice also loud, but also, a little reverent, because they’re not talking about dating but it’s just as important that Yunho know--that Yunho not think--that Yunho not _fear_ that Changmin isn’t as invested in TVXQ as he is. “And also yes. _Yes_ , of course, hyung. I-- Yes.” 

He meets Yunho’s eyes, risking a smile.

He can hear the pen scratching along paper, but it doesn’t matter, because for a quick second Yunho smiles back, and it’s like they’re kids again, about to embark on the world’s most exciting thirteen year journey.

Changmin turns back to Huang-ssi. “It was both our idea,” he decides.

Yunho slides a foot along the floor, quick and perfectly accidental, but lets the sides of their feet touch in a way that is entirely on purpose. 

Changmin throat feels funny. 

“Okay,” Huang-ssi is saying. “Well my initial feeling is the two of you seem to be very in sync, like perfect dance partners, if you will--“

Changmin turns a choked laugh into a cough when Yunho elbows him, face the picture of innocence.

“--so I have to ask.” Huang-ssi steadies herself, seemingly hesitant. “And I just want to reiterate that this is a safe space and nothing we discuss here will leave the room.”

Changmin nods, feeling a little bit at a loss. “Right,” he says, voice trailing off. This isn’t news; they all signed the NDAs prior to the session.

“So, since you two seem very much in love--“

This time Yunho’s the one choking on air. 

“--I have to ask.” She lifts her head, swallowing. “How are things in the bedroom?”

Changmin feels all the air leave the room in one great gust. 

“What the fuck?” he says.

Huang-ssi flushes immediately. “You don't have to say right this moment,” she says quickly, worrying the pen between her fingers. “In fact. Why don’t we revisit this for our next session.”

More pen fiddling.

“You can think of it like homework, if that’s easier.” She pauses, suddenly horrified. “Not that sex should ever feel like homework--something you have to do,” she clarifies, foot very much in her mouth. “Um.”

Changmin isn't sure when he breathed last. Maybe he should just stop breathing period and let death come to him.

“Just something to think about,” Huang-ssi hurries to say. 

“Right,” Yunho manages, when it’s clear that Changmin isn’t going to be getting words out for quite a long while. “So, uh. Did you still want to hear a little bit about each of us?” 

Huang-ssi looks relieved for the subject change. 

 _Changmin_ is relieved for the subject change. 

He’s pretty sure that even _Yunho_ , ever perfect, composed, nothing can phase me leader-ssi U-Know Yunho, is thankful for the subject change. 

“Yes,” says Huang-ssi, and that’s what they do for the  rest of the session.

By the time their two hours is finished, even Changmin has put in a few words, both about his own circumstances--okay I wasn’t scouted for the ‘choir club’ just cause I looked pretty playing badminton, Hyung. It was because I was singing at the same time--and about Yunho’s circumstances--you really got into a fight with a homeless guy over optimal street sleeping spots? Really?!!. 

Right on the hour mark, the door pushes open, and Kyungjae-hyung and another of their managers come into the room.

Huang-ssi closes her note pad with another bright smile, gets to her feet, bows to them both again, thanking them for their time, before following after the man into the hallway.

Changmin is left standing between Yunho and Kyungjae-hyung, head still feeling stuffed with wool, as their manager informs them that Yoojin-hyung wants them both in the recording booth to go over some chorus stuff for ‘Catch Me.’ 

Yunho smiles and nods in an extremely fake way and tells Kyungjae-hyung they’ll be on their way right away. 

The two exchange equally fake and awkward back pats, before it’s just the two of them in the too tiny room with the piano.

“What the fuck just happened?” says Changmin finally, once the doors close behind him.

“Changmin,” says Yunho, and for a second Changmin thinks he’s going to touch him on the arm. 

He snaps to attention. “Sorry, yes.” He gives himself a shake. “Recording booth?” 

Yunho face closes off a little. “Yeah,” he says.

“Lead the way.” 

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be like 20 chapters wtf. Save me.
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/158567905605/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) ||[Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378).


	2. june/july 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever write something and just have a beautiful sense of calm before the storm? That’s what the end of this chapter was like tbh. ENJOY.
> 
> Betaed by Scar. She is the real MVP. Shout out to Poppy for all the cheering.

  **two.** _june/july 2012_

\--

“What is that?” says Changmin, when Yunho gets in the van.

“Changdol, hello,” replies Yunho, voice very sweet, and sits down. He crosses his legs.

Changmin watches the stretch of bare skin, notes the absurd sandal things wrapping around his feet, deems them the least offensive part of the outfit, and slides his eyes right back up.

“What are you _wearing_?”

Yunho pushes his sunglasses down onto his nose, and then, considering, slips them off. They are in a car, after all. The hat keeps his eyes shaded, but he does look less like a pretentious douche, Changmin supposes.

“Clothes,” says Yunho.

“Clothes,” repeats Changmin, dubious, because clothes are a denim onesie, belted at the waist with a white belt, short on the legs and long sleeved, with a blue brimmed hat covered in--Changmin squints--yellow birds. He has no idea who told Yunho onesies were a good look for him, but whoever it is should just. Probably give up fashion. Or maybe Changmin should give up fashion. Maybe this is hot or something.

Changmin doesn’t think so, even though Yunho’s legs are very nicely muscled, and the length of his torso is only highlighted by the belt, and his collarbones are showing under the low buttoned neck.

Changmin swallows.

What was he saying again?

Oh yeah. Clothes. He gives Yunho one last once-over, shakes his head, and glances down at his guitar, checking that it’s still settled at their feet.

Neither of them say anything for a long moment.

Changmin debates rolling down the window, decides better of it, and then starts fiddling with his headphones.

“Look, Hyung,” he says finally, at the same time Yunho finally turns to face him more fully.

“Do you really think it’s bad?” the man says, brow furrowed, and Changmin has a sudden and inexplicable urge to throw himself off the nearest mountain.

“...No,” he says after a pause. “It works on you.”

He supposes it does, sort of, in a weird way. Certainly it makes Changmin’s Lacoste t-shirt and denim shorts look sloppy, although both of them are working the sponsorship to their fullest. Yunho’s just doing it in a way that feels more model-like. If not absurd.

Yunho’s entire expression brightens and he smiles; Changmin has a sudden and inexplicable urge to stop at the edge of a cliff and scream until his lungs give out.

“Anyway, Hyung,” he says. “About the whole. Therapy thing.”

“Don’t worry, Changdol,” Yunho says brightly. “We just won’t go back.”

Changmin opens and closes his mouth. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Okay then?”

The front door pulls open and Kyungjae-hyung files into the seat in front of Yunho. “You’re not changing therapists,” he says, and Changmin points at him wildly.

“Be gone, evil spirit,” he hisses, only half joking, because what the _fuck_? How in the hell does the man _do_ that? Unless he’s fucking wiretapping the van or something, which--

Changmin glances around the van just to be sure, before turning back to his manager.

Kyungjae-hyung sighs. “Yunho texted me,” he explains.

Yunho waves the hand holding his phone.

Changmin blinks between his hand and Kyungjae-hyung. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” says Kyungjae-hyung. “But really. You’re not changing therapists.” He reaches around the area at his feet and pulls out a water bottle, uncapping it with deft hands.

“She thinks the issue is me and Yunho-hyung aren’t having enough sex,” says Changmin, utterly deadpan, and takes great pleasure in how his manager sputters on the mouthful of water he’d been about to sip.

“Jesus, Changmin,” the man gasps out. “Warn a man.”

Changmin just smirks at him, unbothered. “Let us change therapists.”

“Look, she’s there to listen to you,” explains Kyungjae-hyung. “Just explain to her that you’re not interested in having sex with Yunho-hyung.” Kyungjae-hyung pauses with a wicked look in his eyes. “Unless you want to have sex with Yunho-hyung--”

“Hyung!” shrieks Changmin, face flaming.

He throws Yunho a quick glance, but the older man doesn’t look up from his phone.

Changmin heaves a sigh of relief.

“Besides,” continues Kyungjae-hyung. “Therapy is expensive.”

Changmin opens his mouth to point out that in that case they should just not see anyone.

“And the company has already paid up until the tour,” he finishes. “In November.”

Changmin scowls at him. “Hyung,” he says.

Kyungjae-hyung stares back at him, unmoving. “You’re going,” he repeats.

Changmin’s nostrils flare, but before he can argue, Yunho finally speaks.

“If the company has already paid, I guess we have no choice.”

Changmin clacks his teeth together hard enough to hurt, but knows when he’s outmaneuvered, and lets it go. “Fine,” he concedes. “Can we go?”

Kyungjae-hyung sighs, long suffering, but gestures towards the rest of their staff to get in the van.

\--

Changmin would like to blame the entire experience on it being their first mission event as a duo. Like. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. And it’s not like he’d lied for any of it--he does swim naked when there’s no one around, and he does feel like he’s aged four years in the course of two days, but that’s less because of the whole ‘playing live guitar thing’ and more about the whole ‘I’m seeing a couple’s therapist with Yunho-hyung because our company feels our relationships is negatively affecting the people we work with’ thing.

Of course he can’t explain all of that to their Japanese staff, although he thinks a few key people have been brought up to speed, given they’re making arrangements for doing a Skype meeting two days from now since they won’t be back in Korea to make the appointment. Changmin debated disputing one last time, but Yunho had shot him a look, and Changmin had been too tired to argue at that point.

Which finds he and Yunho awkwardly piled around Changmin’s laptop in their Japan apartment come the 3rd, waiting for Huang-ssi to sign onto Skype.

“This seems really unprofessional,” Changmin is saying, even as Yunho rolls his eyes at him and gears up for yet another rant about how they can’t just drop everything and rush back to Korea for one counseling session as they are _stars,_ Changdol please, when Huang-ssi signs in and video calls them.

Changmin is left staring at the screen more than a little at a loss, and Yunho has to lean around him to answer.

Huang-ssi comes into blurry focus, looking lovely for the time and smiling at them despite the inconvenience. “Yunho-ssi, Changmin-ssi,” she says. “Hello.”

Changmin thinks: ‘ _why wasn’t I first?_ ’, but Yunho stomps on his foot before he can voice that. Which is good, if not painful. Changmin is almost worried; what is it about this woman that turns his filter right off?

“Huang-ssi,” Yunho greets politely.

Huang-ssi smiles at him, laughing a little helplessly, and goes pink, like women often do, when charmed by Jung Yunho.

Changmin feels a sudden and inexplicable urge to slam the laptop shut, and realizes rather gleefully that he’s allowed, given their circumstances. He drapes a rather proprietary arm around Yunho’s shoulders before he thinks about it, and smirks at the therapist.

Yunho goes stiff under his attention, muscles flexing in a way that should not leave Changmin breathless, but he doesn’t shove Changmin off.

Changmin knows he wants to--Changmin would most definitely shove him off.  

Huang-ssi’s pen goes scratching across the paper. “So how have things been since our last conversation?” she asks, getting right to the point.

Changmin can respect that, but Changmin also remembers what their homework was supposed to be, and he definitely does not want to get to the point of that.

“Look, Huang-ssi,” he says, voice a little uncertain. “About our homework.”

Huang-ssi colors slightly. “We don’t have to talk about that just yet if you’re not ready,” she insists, folding her hands in her lap. “Unless you have something in particular you would like to share?”

“No!” Changmin almost shouts, undraping himself from Yunho as if burned. “I mean, we’re not--we don’t--that’s not how our relationships is--” He breaks off, searching for words, and shoots Yunho a desperate, helpless look.

Yunho is staring blankly at him, a bit pink, but he seems to snap out of it quickly. “Right,” he says slowly, and then, quicker, “I mean yes. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Changmin reaches blindly for the water bottle he knows they left behind the laptop and takes a rather desperate swing.

There is a pause. “I see.” Huang-ssi is making some sort of note. “And does that bother you?”

Changmin chokes on the water, coughing, and Yunho has to pound him on the back a few times. “What?” he manages, barely. He feels a little lightheaded.

Huang-ssi is smiling at him again, expression open. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it yet.” She makes a final note on the notepad, before glancing between the two of them welcomingly. “Is there anything in particular you wish to speak about? To each other?”

She waits, eyes knowing.

Changmin feels around helplessly in his supposedly cavernous brain for something, and only manages to come up with images of Yunho in that absurd onesie. “Onesie,” he says, like a true intellectual.

Yunho stomps on his foot again. “Changmin,” he says, which isn’t a quite a whine yet, but could become one, if Changmin pressed the issue.

Changmin presses the issue. “Hyung keeps wearing onesies,” he says.

“I wore it once,” Yunho protests, cheeks definitely red now. “And you said I looked fine.”

“I mean you certainly looked _fine_ ,” says Changmin, finally starting to feel better now that he’s in a space that he’s used to--the nagging and the teasing that make most of their older staff roll their eyes and their younger staff frown because ‘isn’t Changmin-ssi the maknae?’

Yunho glowers at him, nearly pouting. “ _Changmin_ ,” he whines, and there it is.

Changmin feels peace settle into his bones, calm he hasn’t felt in ages, and a true smile curving around the edges of his mouth.

And then Huang-ssi clears her throat and his shoulders tense right back up.  “I’m sure Changmin-ssi thought you looked lovely, Yunho-ssi,” she says, and Changmin snorts, because no, but then he catches sight of her expression, and he sighs.

“I guess,” he admits.

Huang-ssi seems to accept that that’s about all she’s going to get out of him this early into their sessions, and goes back to her notes. “And Yunho-ssi?” she prompts. “Did you have anything you wanted to talk about in particular?”

“Not since our last session, actually,” says Yunho, around a yawn. “We’ve actually been pretty okay, minus a few moments.” He shoots Changmin a glare, and Changmin stares back unmoved, because the onesie was ridiculous and he stands by that claim. “Changminnie hasn’t nagged me about the shower in ages.”

And well, if they’re talking about it:

“That’s just because you haven’t _showered_ in ages, _Hyung_ ,” he says pointedly, and wow, who knew how cathartic this therapy thing could really be.

“That is patently untrue,” growls Yunho, and wow, Changmin’s really gotten under his skin quick. “I showered yesterday! You were there! You almost skinned me alive over the towel--”

“So you admit it!” crows Changmin, jabbing gleeful finger into his arm. “You admit you’re the one who left the towel on the bathroom floor--”

He breaks off, suddenly feeling embarrassed, and shoots Huang-ssi a quick glance.

The woman watching them both with too knowing eyes, pen scrabbling along the page.

Changmin swallows. “Yunho-hyung and I have different ideas about the bathroom,” he decides. “And toothpaste.” He considers. “And where we put our feet in the car.” He considers some more. “And how we drink water bottles.” His brow furrows. “And how to make ramen--”

“Okay, Changdol, yeah?” interrupts Yunho, reaching out and grabbing him by the bicep. He pulls him in close in a half hug, fingers tight against Changmin’s shirt sleeve. “I think that’s enough of that.”

“No this is good,” says Huang-ssi, voice even. “It sounds like you have a lot of things you’d like to say to Yunho-ssi, Changmin-ssi.” She smiles. “It’s good that you have the space to do so now.”

“Oh he says plenty,” grumbles Yunho. “In the worst moments. Like on T--”

Changmin elbows him in the ribs.

“--with our friends. With our company friends. When we’re out with our friends who work at the same company as us.” Yunho struggles for words. He lets Changmin go, leaning to the side.

Huang-ssi nods seriously. “I see,” she says. “And that bothers you?”

“Well I mean he doesn’t say anything I’ve never heard before,” Yunho starts to say, suddenly much more animated.

“To Changmin-ssi, Yunho-ssi,” interrupts Huang-ssi, gently.

Yunho turns to face Changmin diligently. “But it’s embarrassing.” He frowns. “You’re supposed to be my maknae.”

Changmin fluffs a little, almost preening, and then scowls, angry at himself, thoughts a thundercloud. “I don’t _belong_ to you, Yunho-hyung,” he snaps, flicking his hair angrily out of his eyes. “And I thought I was supposed to be your partner now.”

He shoots Yunho a pointed look, only halfway in a ‘please don’t give away our secret we’re supposed to be in a relationship not world famous bandmates’ sort of way.

Yunho has the decency to look chagrined. “No, I know,” he says, and he’s definitely answering the second half of that sentence, the, stop calling me the baby you know I’m just as important in this group as you are part. But he doesn’t commit fully, still seems to be stuck on Changmin’s age instead of his role, and Changmin scowls, suddenly very done.

“Do you?” he says, somewhat rhetorically.

“Yes,” replies Yunho, terse. “Let’s change the subject.”

They both turn pointedly back to Huang-ssi, who stares between them for a moment before managing another bright smile. It’s actually rather soothing, Changmin decides. She’s so unfazed by all the anger in front of her. Maybe it’s an American thing.

“Well, let’s revisit our conversation from last time,” she decides. “Yunho-ssi.” She turns to Yunho with cheer in her voice that Changmin can’t decide is actually fake. “Tell me about Changmin-ssi.” She waits a moment. “Where he comes from. What he values. Who he is, in your eyes.”

Changmin blinks. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” he starts to say, but Yunho casts him an ugly smug sort of look, and starts recounting Changmin’s life story with official glee.

Halfway into the experience Changmin is positively squirming in his seat, not sure what to do with all the attention. Yunho’d given up on being dramatic and incorrect after the first time Changmin squawked at him, and has since managed to tell the entire badminton event without pausing, and adapts the ‘quit now’ part of their first meeting seamlessly into the fake ‘choir’ part of it without even breaking into a sweat.

He’s also hitting a little too close to mark with remarks like ‘tries the hardest’ and ‘wants to please everyone but most of all himself’ and ‘refuses to let anyone walk over him/forget him.’

It’s making the part of Changmin that realizes he’s going to have to do this next want to shrivel up and die.

“And Changmin-ssi?” prompts Huang-ssi, once Yunho has finished permanently burning Changmin’s ears off.

“Yunho-hyung,” Changmin starts, ears still flaming. “Is one of the kindest people I know.”

\--

They end up sitting rather awkwardly in their kitchen for five whole minutes after Huang-ssi has hung up with them, Skype still open on the laptop, empty water bottles in front of them, refusing to meet each other’s eyes.

Time inches forward on Changmin’s computer screen, before the beast gives up and goes to sleep, screen blinking black.

Changmin reaches forward and taps the mousepad, watching as his wallpaper swims into focus: his and Kyuhyun and Minho’s faces smiling back at him, almost mocking.

Finally Yunho seems to collect himself, and gets to his feet. “Changmin,” he says, at the same time Changmin swivels to face him.

“You’re right let’s never speak of this again,” he says, before he can chicken out.

Yunho’s mouth shuts. “Sure,” he says, and then, pausing. “I think I’m going to go to bed early. Don’t wait up.”

Changmin stares after him for a long moment.

\--

The first thing Boa-noona says to him when she sees him is, “so Changmin. I hear you’re in therapy.” And then she grins at him, obviously fully aware of what she’s talking about, and skips off to hair and makeup before he can come for her.

Changmin stares after her eyes narrowed, and immediately searches out Kyuhyun in the crowd. The dress code is pink, so naturally of the two of them Changmin is the one wearing the hot pink sweater, while Yunho gets stuffed into pink skinny jeans and a white button down with pink lapels. It’s all rather girly sweet, makes Changmin’s teeth ache, and as soon as he sees Kyuhyun sequestered over by the beverages he makes a beeline.

Kyuhyun’s not even wearing pink, which is the first thing Changmin notices, and he swipes the drink right out of his friend’s hand with a growl. “Yah,” he says. “Stop gossiping about me.”

Kyuhyun snags his drink straight back, entirely unaffected. “Changmin-ssi,” he says. “I am your best friend.”

Changmin will give him that.

“Best friends are supposed to gossip about you.”

Changmin scowls at him, unimpressed.

Sungmin-hyung passes by with his arm around Siwon-hyung, and the two of them shoot Changmin rather knowing looks.

Changmin scowls even harder at Kyuhyun, who just looks unapologetic. “Look Chwang we got really pissed _in my dorm_ \--” he starts to point out, right when Donghae-hyung and Hyukjae-hyung drape an arm each over Changmin’s shoulders.

“Dongsaeng,” says Hyukjae-hyung, right next to Changmin’s right ear.

Changmin doesn’t jump, shriek, or murder them, but it’s a near thing. He’s starting to understand why Boa-noona--and everyone else at the damn company--seems to know about his and Yunho’s…activities.

“Hyung.”

“Speaking of hyungs,” says Donghae-hyung, grinning. “How are things with Yunho-hyung?”

Changmin thinks of the two of them waxing poetic in their Japan apartment over skype and flushes to match his sweater, ears hot.

Donghae-hyung--the asshole--whistles.

Kyuhyun shoots Changmin another smug look.

Changmin wants to fall into a hole and to die. Or for Donghae-hyung to fall into a hole and die.

He’s saved by Yunho, however, when Lee Sooman-seongsaengnim and the cameras for Star Date arrive, and Changmin has never been more grateful for Yunho’s utter politeness before.

He follows after him diligently, bowing, greeting, smiling with too many teeth when the man asks about Huang-ssi--apparently he was more involved than Changmin would like to think about--and then they’re released into the throng of mingling and movie magic.

Changmin gets roped into cheering for Boa-noona with Kyuhyun, only one eye on Yunho as he gets his hair fixed two paces to his side, and he blames the sinful cut of the damn pink pants for the fact that he mentions Boa’s height to her face.

After that he loses Yunho in the rush--later, he finds out that he’s gone off with Boa-noona and  Hyukjae-hyung to shoot some other promotional stuff--and that his voice had been all deep and hilarious--but that’s only later, after they’ve been set down in front of the cameras for the pictures.

Thankfully-- _amazingly_ \--no one else mentions the couple’s counseling thing.

\--

Appointments four and five go about as well as can be expected, given Changmin and Yunho aren’t actually in a relationship.

Huang-ssi really is quite positive, but instead of being annoying it works on her, and Changmin usually leaves the sessions feeling rejuvenated, if not a little bit raw. He’s not entirely sure if Yunho feels the same, but they’ve finalized _Catch Me_ ’s tracklist at this point, and Changmin is suddenly far too busy to think much about it.

In between two hour talks with Huang-ssi at the SM building Changmin and Yunho are escorted to and from the apartment for dance practices--they’re working with an American choreographer named Tony Testa, and Changmin likes him a lot, even though they’ve only had preliminary meetings and discussions about the tone of the song and the dance. Minho’s only had good things to say about him, and Changmin really enjoyed ‘Sherlock’s choreography.

But despite that, they’re actually in a bit of a promotional lull, so Changmin finds himself at a loss for things to do, when he’s not living breathing ‘Catch Me’ or following after Yunho feeling a little bit like a lost puppy dog.

Tony-hyung and Yunho get on like a house on fire, despite the language barrier and the cultural differences. It must be the dancing thing, bridging all the gaps.

“What do you think of light up hands?” Yunho says one day after practice, when Changmin’s convinced him that they should take a break and lie down on the floor. Or sit on the floor. Changmin knows better than to ask Yunho if he can take a nap but he’s about five seconds from doing so anyway. Changmin is, at this point, fairly certain that he will be able to dance ‘Keep Your Head Down’ and ‘Before You Go’ in his sleep.

“Light up hands?” Changmin parrots back, head tilting to the side.

Yunho looks at him fondly, like he’s the baby again, and instead of feeling stifled and uncomfortable, Changmin just feels warm on the inside.

Huang-sii would be so proud.

“For the dance, Tony-hyung was saying--”

And Yunho is off, espousing Tony-hyung like the man’s a God himself, discussing the various pops and locks they can do for the dance--Changmin very quickly reviews the lyrics, searching for suitable pop and lock moments and comes the horrifying conclusions that the entire song is pop and lockable because it’s a damn EDM dance beat--and takes advantage of Yunho’s enthusiasm to get his breath back.

Of course besides that, there’s not much to do but go watch other people’s performances, which is why Changmin ends up attending SHINee’s concert in Seoul with EXO the day after Yunho, not at all on purpose, and not at all angrily because he wasn’t invited along with Hyung the day before.

Kyungjae-hyung collects him afterwards, with several of EXO’s managers, smiley for the younger ones and nodding politely off towards SHINee.

Changmin falls in line with the older man with a sigh, trying not to look too annoyed, or exhausted. He’s due in Japan from some quick album work--they’re just barely starting to put out feelers for their second Japanese album--and should be back before the fans even notice. It means he’ll be missing their weekly meeting with Huang-ssi, but she’d waved them off without concern, since Yunho had ‘important things to do for work’ which really meant he was off playing with Boa-noona in preparation for her comeback.

Which Changmin is totally, totally fine about.

When he lands back in Korea several days later, Changmin realizes he’s actually looking forward to their meeting with Huang-ssi, which has him stopping in his tracks on his way to the SM offices.

Yunho spots him before he can get his face back together, but the older man just seems earnestly happy to see him, waving at him brightly and calling out to him.

“Changmin-ah!”

Changmin feels that weird squirmy feeling again, and shuffles off to meet him outside Huang-ssi’s office. “Hyung.”

“Did you have fun in Japan?”

“Loads,” says Changmin, pulling open the door.

\--

tbc. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I keep to weekly posting or will i cave and post early b/c I'm writing chapter 7 right now
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/158836667998/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378).


	3. august 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah August 2012. You were partially inspired by [this](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/158471884775/kawaiipickle-that-one-time-when-changmin-had) lovely gifset.
> 
> Betaed by Scar, all other mistakes my own, translation etc etc etc etc.

**three.** _august 2012_

\--

As is the way of Changmin’s life, things go to complete shit somewhere in the air on their way to SM Town Tokyo. Changmin supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, given he and Yunho haven’t had one of their whisper-shout matches in ages, and therapy isn’t a magic cure that works instantly, but it’s still a bit of a slap in the face to end up several rows away from Yunho with his ears ringing and his headphones firmly over them trying not to look like he wants to cry or commit murder.

He doesn’t even know why they fought, just that it escalated; one second Changmin was very politely telling Yunho not to drink from his water bottle at the concert, and the next Changmin was alone in his seat while Yunho stalked off to join Donghae-hyung and Super Junior.

Kyuhyun shoots him an apologetic look, but he’s trapped next to a sound asleep Siwon-hyung and can’t come to his rescue, so Changmin resigns himself to drowning his sorrows in X Japan so he can get properly in the zone.

But then, unbiddingly, he meets Kyungjae-hyung’s eyes across the way, and remembers the shit show that was Anaheim, where Yunho hadn’t spoken to him properly until after the concert, and when their staff had gotten it in their heads that the two of them needed therapy anyway.

Several moments later he gives up, gets to his feet, and drags his way up the aisle towards Yunho.

He stands there for a few moments, fully aware that everyone on the plane is either blatantly looking or pretending not to look except for the one person he wants to look back.

Yunho keeps talking to Donghae-hyung, even as the other man’s mouth falls open slightly and he blinks up at Changmin in bafflement.

Changmin swallows, and tosses his bangs out of his eyes. “Hyung.”

Yunho stops talking but doesn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry,” Changmin gets out, feeling incredibly strained, but also feeling like he needs to say this or he’s going to get forced into more sessions. They might stop letting the two of them get away with Skyping her. They might even start flying Huang-ssi out to Japan--which means either getting trapped in an underground Avex room with her, or inviting her into their apartment.

None of these things are what Changmin wants.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Yunho finally looks at him, mouth a hard line, but eyes starting to crinkle in the corners. “Okay, Changdol,” he says finally, and then pats the seat next to him.

Changmin sinks into it after a short pause, drags his headphones up over his ears, and lets himself fall asleep to the sound of ‘Rusty Nail.’

\--

The best part about Japan shows is that they’re allowed to go home-- _home_ \--instead of getting stuck up in a hotel with the rest of their company. Changmin normally doesn’t mind all the fuss, and it’s easier to go from the hotel with everyone else, but they’re there for two days this time, and their shower has Changmin’s name on it, so he maybe turns the puppy dog eyes on Yunho until they’re dismissed, Kyungjae-hyung shaking his head but sending them off with some Japanese staff until it’s time for rehearsal.

Changmin ends up in the bath by himself, feeling entirely too luxurious, while Yunho putters around in his room blasting their own album.

He’s not even blasting anything Japanese, and Changmin would be annoyed, but it’s hard to be annoyed when all 185 centimeters of you are submerged in warm water.

His muscles are finally starting to feel relaxed again.

From the bedroom, there’s the sound of something hard connecting with bone, and then Yunho shouting, “I’m fine don’t come in!” at the top of his lungs.

Changmin debates shouting back, but decides not to.

He’s actually most nervous about the English song, even though he’s done it a few times. Singing to Taemin’s no big deal, and he’ll have Minho to back him up, but part of Changmin still blanches at the sound of his own pronunciation.

“It’ll be fine,” he tells himself, tired of the wallowing and the nerves, and then, with a considering glance towards the closed bathroom door, he walks a hand down his abs.

Yunho’s starts singing along with ‘Catch Me’ at full volume, and Changmin says fuck it.

“This is a bad idea,” he tells himself, as he gets a hand around his cock. “Such a bad idea,” he continues, tightening his grip and giving himself a good long stroke. “Sooooooooo bad.” The words kind of slur at that point, and Changmin tilts his head back against the tub and closes his eyes.

It’s always better like this. Changmin’s no virgin, but sex with your eyes open has always felt more intimate to him, and there’s the whole matter of eye contact, which he tries not to have happen often, since part of him is self-conscious about the faces he makes--blame Cho Kyuhyun for that-- and part of him is worried about what his partners might see there.

Besides, sensation is always better with your eyes closed, and add in the slip and slide of the water, the cold of the outside air when his hand leaves the water, and the low rumble of Yunho’s baritone in the bedroom, and Changmin’s gone.

Or.

What?

He gasps, eyes falling open, brain stuck somewhere on that last train of thought, but he knows himself too well, knows when to twist and when to pet and when to use nails, and he can feel an orgasm rumbling along like Yunho’s voice, thundering for the bass tones and almost cresting for the high notes, which he’s actually belting, even though Changmin knows it’s his voice on the track, his near shouting his--what was he saying?

He adds nails, perfectly, utterly close, and feels only slightly guilty for the noise he makes when the song modulates out of key and Yunho goes into the rap part….thing.

Changmin thinks, in a moment of perfect clarity: ‘ _I’m getting off to Yunho’s singing,_ ’ before he fucking comes.

The bath is disgusting now.

The water is cold.

Yunho seems to have finished singing.

Changmin stares down at his own limp dick with morbid fascination, at a loss.

“What the fuck?” he says.

He seems to have been saying that a lot, lately.

\--

Kyuhyun takes everything in stride. “So let me get this straight,” he says, as Changmin tries to suffocate himself with the pillow on the other side of the room. “You got off to Yunho-hyung singing ‘Catch Me.’”

Changmin shoves the pillow more solidly against this face, aghast.

Kyuhyun shows no mercy. “To Yunho-hyung singing _your part_ in  ‘Catch Me.’” He pauses. “Does this mean you’re a narcissist?”

Changmin slams the pillow away from his face and hurls at him, well past aghast and onto distraught. “Yah!” he says. “I am _having a crisis_.”

Kyuhyun doesn’t move from where he’s been shuffling through sheet music at the hotel room table. “Maybe you should ask your therapist,” he says, and Changmin can’t even kill him for that because Changmin actually has a damn therapist. A marriage therapist, for his non existent marriage with Yunho, but a therapist none the same.

Although it’s totally her fault--since she’s the one who put the whole ‘maybe you want to have sex with Yunho-hyung’ thing into the groundwater in the first place.

Come to think of it the entire thing is Kyungjae-hyung’s fault.

Changmin should totally call him up and tell him, loudly, and in graphic detail, just so he can listen to the man squirm.

Kyuhyun sets the sheet music and sighs. “Changmin,” he says. “Please get yourself together.”

Changmin glowers at him, reaching for the other pillow. “See if I’m nice to you next time you call me with a boner for Heechul-hyung,” he says darkly, and stuffs the thing over his face again.

Death would be kinder than this, he thinks.

Kyuhyun is silent for a long moment. “Touché,” he says finally, in French.

Changmin smirks behind the pillow.

“But back to your therapist.” Kyuhyun has recovered incredibly fast. “Huang-ssi.”

Changmin’s lips twitch despite himself.

“At least she was right about your issues?”

Changmin pulls the pillow away from his face so that he can look his friend in the eye _before_ he strangles him. “My issues--” he starts to protest, but Kyuhyun raises a hand.

“She said you just wanted to fuck Yunho-hyung,” says Kyuhyun brightly. “And case in point--you do.”

Changmin just stares at him, at a loss for things to say.

Kyuhyun grins back at him brightly, looking pleased as can be. “Do you want some wine?” he says. “I brought wine.” He gets up and wanders over towards his suitcase. “Or would alcohol make things worse. Make you all maudlin and whiney over the whole wanting to fuck Yunho-hyung thing. Instead of just, you know. Cranky about the whole wanting to fuck Yunho-hyung thing.” He grins again.

“I fucking hate you,” Changmin decides, returning to pillow smothering.

“Love you too,” says Kyuhyun.

Changmin’s phone rings.

Kyuhyun picks it up when Changmin doesn’t show signs of moving, because Changmin’s ringtone is the shouting moment in _Keep Your Head Down_ out of spite--and because it’s guaranteed to get him out of bed in the morning when he gets called out of early practices.

“Hello--Yunho-hyung?” says Kyuhyun, and Changmin throws the pillow to the side and vaults out of the bed, heart pounding.

“Give me the phone,” he tells Kyuhyun, wind-milling his way across the floor, even as his friend grins at him and palms the phone.

“No, Changminnie is here,” he says. “He had a little mishap in the bathroom and wanted to come whine about it with someone who would care.”

Changmin gets his feet under him and comes for him, murder in his eyes. “Cho--”

Kyuhyun side-steps him. “Water all over the floor? Bath still full? _Wet towels on the floor_?”

Changmin is going to _murder him_.

“That doesn’t sound like Changminnie at all,” says Kyuhyun. “Oh he’s out of the bathroom now--here.”

And he thrusts the phone into Changmin’s outstretched hands before he can strangle him.

Changmin is forced to answer, voice strained. “Hyung?”

“Changmin,” says Yunho, sounding, confused, but a little relieved also. “Why’d you make such a big deal about staying at home if you were just going to leave.”

He’s definitely pouting. Probably has his bottom lip between his teeth, hair all soft, eyes all crinkled.

Changmin feels a little lightheaded, because what the _fuck_. “I wasn’t planning on doing it,” he says quickly. “When are we due for rehearsal?”

If Yunho notices his rather blatant subject change, the man doesn’t mention it, just rattles of the time anyway.

Kyuhyun, by contrast, looks positively gleeful, and mimes jerking off like the fucking _jerk off_ he fucking is.

Changmin is about three seconds from saying fuck it and tossing him off the hotel balcony. It’s fine. Super Junior has many people. They could survive.

As if hearing his thoughts, Kyuhyun slaps his hand to his chest, mock horrified.

Changmin rolls his eyes. “No, I’ll wait for you,” he tells Yunho, turning his back on Kyuhyun. “Just meet me by the elevators and we can head over?”

Yunho agrees, sounding pleased, and Changmin hangs up feeling a little less crazy inside.

Of course the moment he turns back around Kyuhyun’s still fake masturbating with a banana, now, now, and Changmin rues the day he ever got in the industry in the first place.

\--

They don’t tell Changmin they’re cutting his hair until after they’ve arrived at the salon. The both of them had gotten a good few inches chopped off right before A-Nation, which Yunho had showed off for the official dance practice for ‘Catch Me’ before they’d been sent off to Gimpo with hardly any breathing time. Changmin remembers the fans collectively losing their shit online over the haircut. Which is totally justified, since Yunho manages to somehow look younger and older with his hair above his ears and shaved close to the sides of his head. They hadn’t changed the color so much as refreshed the highlights and given him a talking to for not washing it well enough.

They hadn’t touched Changmin’s hair beyond a trim and several compliments. He supposes he should have known.

The cut is… drastic.

Changmin really doesn’t have any other words for it. It wouldn’t have been that awful if it wasn’t  also bright orange brown, but as it stands, Changmin ends up seating in the salon chair still wearing the dressing gown, bits of hair stuck behind his very obviously protruding ears and down the back of his neck, staring at himself in the mirror and wishing for a slow, sweet death.

“Good,” says someone--one of the cordi-noonas that Changmin actually knows the name of, but given that she’s just signed off on this shitshow, he decides he must forget instantly.

Yunho’s off who knows where--not getting tormented with hair dye and scissors--but Changmin knows they’re going to have to see each other eventually.

Given they’re in a band.

Given they’ve booked Ilsan Arthouse for the MV shoot tomorrow.

He opens and closes his mouth three times--once to ask if he can take the gown off, once to ask if he needs to do anything special with shampoo, and once to ask if he can borrow the shears to slit his own throat.

He looks like a damn acorn.

\--

“I think you look cute,” says Yunho, in the car, several hours later, fished out from wherever by Kyungjae-hyung. He’s got Changmin’s headphones wrapped around his neck--the new Beats ones--and he very unapologetically hands them over when Changmin scowls. “I lost mine.”

Changmin scowls harder. He’s not wearing pants he can shove them in, and on the off chance they get spotted by anyone with a cellphone he wants to draw the least amount of attention to his neck and ears as possible.

Yunho licks his lips. “I mean it,” he says. “It looks good on you.”

Changmin stares back at him, taking in sunshine streaked hair, strong, newly even brows, the damn mole, and that unfair pout, and then slides his glance to his own face, reflected back in the sunglasses on Yunho’s chest.

“I look like an acorn,” he deadpans, utterly toneless. “My ears look huge.”

For a second Yunho looks like he’s about to reach out--to touch, or some ridiculous thing--and Changmin feels horror flush up his neck. And isn’t that just great. Now he’s got no cover whatsoever for the blushing thing. He knows he blushes in the worst places, because his fans aren’t blind and his ears are something of his trademark, but now the back of his neck will be fair game too.

“I think your ears are cute,” points out Yunho.

Changmin breathes through his nose. “Do not tell me which manager’s idea this was,” he says.

Yunho does reach out this time, sticking a hand straight into Changmin’s bangs, fluffing the newly shorn hair away from his forehead and tilting his head this way and that. “You look better without these,” he decides.

“Bangs?” Changmin prompts, when it becomes clear Yunho’s not just pausing and has instead somehow forgotten the Korean word.

“Bangs,” Yunho agrees, pleased as you like. “Your hair’s very soft.”

Changmin realizes with growing horror that Yunho is basically feeling him up in the car and not only that but Changmin is _letting_ Yunho feel him up in the car and _their managers_ are right the fuck there and _death would be sweeter_.

He shoves back against the seat, pulling Yunho’s hand from his hair in a mess of pain and probably some of the weaker hairs. His eyes water, he feels half bald, but Yunho’s no longer touching him.

Changmin scowls, for good measure. “I look twelve. I _feel_ twelve.”

Yunho gives him a long, uncomfortable and measured look, before rolling his neck back, suddenly smug. “I think that’s something you should discuss with Huang-ssi,” he says.

Changmin hates him. “I hate you,” he says.

Yunho’s lips twitch. “That too.”

Changmin is going to murder him.

Yunho remains unfazed. “You’re making this too easy.”

Changmin wishes he could feel comfortable smacking him or something, but he still feels a little raw, thinking about it. Maybe he should mention that to Huang-ssi. Not because he values her opinion, but simply because they need to keep up appearances, and all. They’re due to see her right before the MV shoot anyway.

Yunho yawns without covering his mouth, head lolling to the side against the headrest. He crosses one leg over the other, shorts pulling at the thigh, and Changmin feels his mouth go dry.

His rational brain starts shrieking.

“You ready for tomorrow?” asks Yunho, around another yawn.

Changmin frowns at the dark spots under Yunho’s eyes, worries his lip at the pimples cropping up along Yunho’s jawline, and scowls at the cut of Yunho’s cheekbones. Because they’re right fucking there. And Changmin is still staring at them like some sort of. _Fan_.

“Are _you_?” he says.

Yunho doesn’t rise to the bait, probably because he’s too tired to. He lifts a hand to cover the yawn this time, because it’s long and loud and stretches on and on until Changmin’s feeling the creep of a blush again, watching the stretch of Yunho’s neck muscles. “You always learn dances faster than I do, Changdol,” Yunho says.

Changmin swallows.

“But to answer your question, you do sort of look like a baby,” continues Yunho, giving Changmin emotional whiplash. “And the color really doesn’t help.”

Changmin scowls at him, trying not to feel too grateful for the subject change, and goes through with the arm punching. “Jerk,” he says.

Yunho just hums.

\--

“You’re not serious,” says Changmin, gaping at the set. His brain isn’t fully functioning, since they’ve been filming stuff for a production DVD for the album, your usual generic behind the scenes footage for the MV period, _and_ stuff for their Japanese memory DVD. On good days, Changmin manages to get through an MV shoot with only three language blunders. Today, he’s well on his way to five.

“Changmin-ah.” Kyungjae-hyung sounds strained.

Changmin doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. He swivels his head over to Yunho, occupied with last minute choreography talk with their dancers, and then back towards their manager. “Have you met Hyung?”

Kyunjae-hyung sighs. “I’ve already run it by Yunho,” he says. “He said it was fine.”

Changmin scowls. That’s code for ‘he thought the fans would love it and decided it was worth it to try dancing in standing water even though just the other day he tripped over his own wet towel on his way out of the shower.’ “Fine,” he repeats.

Kyungjae-hyung takes that to mean Changmin’s okay with it as well, and points him off towards the dressing area. “We’re not doing the water scenes first, anyway,” he says. “And we need to paint your nails.”

Changmin blinks. “What?”

Kyungjae-hyung waves his hands at him, eyes wicked. “The theme’s out of this world, remember? Space. Superheros. Silver.”

Changmin blinks again. “Superheroes.”

Kyungjae-hyung rolls his eyes. “Go get your nails done, Changmin-ah,” he says. “Yunho’s already drying.”

And then he leaves, leaves Changmin with his mouth gaping, heart pounding, as he very frantically checks for cameras before he’s making a beeline over to Yunho, who does appear to be less handsy than usual, as he runs through the choreography with Hyoje-hyung.

“Changdol, hi,” says Yunho, as Changmin grabs him by the wrist so he can inspect his hands. They’re silver. His nails are silver. Changmin supposes it makes sense to do these scenes first anyway since they don’t involve dancing and they can just swipe the stuff off. There won’t be any wait time between shots.

Changmin supposes he should stop overthinking the nail polish.

He lets go of Yunho’s hand like he’s been burned. “Sorry.” He does _not_ squeak, but his voice does go a little high, but only because he’s not really sorry. Or. Something.

Yunho just looks bemused, like he’s going to try to pet Changmin again.

Changmin decides he needs to go through hair and makeup immediately.

“Put my bangs up,” he tells the stylist, like he has any say, and then pretends he doesn’t see her roll her eyes kindly at him. They’d already decided that was the look they wanted for both him and Yunho a few days back, but Changmin needs to feel like he’s in control of _something_ right now. Because otherwise he’s going to start drowning again.

And that’s not good.

He’s already seeing Huang-ssi for his relationship he does not need to start seeing someone else so he can stop looking over his shoulder constantly.

Not again.

Someone leans in to bake the foundation better under his eyes. It’s his favorite stylist-noona, the one who lets him get away with not drying his hair completely before bed and coming in with natural waves. “You’re not sleeping well?” she says, voice soothing.

Changmin feels immediately calmer. “Busy,” he explains, in that practiced way where he keeps his entire face impassive as they go to work, painting over imperfections, giving his nose definition, and worrying over the state of his eyebrows.

Changmin worries that he’ll be forced to get them dyed again, to better match the travesty of his head.

After that they’re hauled in for close ups, shot with too many lights and too many cameras and far too many shots, so that by the time they’re being corralled for a quick pre-costume fitting for the first dancing set, Changmin’s head is already starting to pound. Of the three, it’s the coldest because it has the least amount of lights, but it’s also covered in smoke, which makes the air even heavier.

By the time they’re nearly done it’s already tomorrow, Changmin’s entire body feels like one giant ache, but the dailies look good, and they’ve managed two or three solid takes of the dance all the way through.

Changmin camps out in the middle of the set between takes three and four, one hand draped over his eyes, legs unabashedly wide, trusting Yunho to handle the monitor, but mostly just trying to get his breath back.

He had forgotten how brutal these things were--three days, constantly dancing, hairspray for days--and how long they go for.

One of the dancer-hyungs wanders by to make sure he’s still alive, poking him in the leg a few times, before settling down for an impromptu massage, and Changmin moans, unable to help himself, and flops more bonelessly against the floor.

“You really need to stop dancing with a cramp,” Hyoje-hyung says, and when Changmin shoots him a confused look, he nods over towards Yunho.

For all intents and purposes Yunho is immersed in the latest take, brow pulled together and phone out to take a video, but Changmin can tell his attention isn’t all the way there. He’d bet that’s why Yunho has the phone out.

It’s also probably so he can show it to Changmin, but Changmin doesn’t want to think about that, doesn’t want to feel warm and fuzzy because of that, not when he can tell from the pull of Yunho’s shoulders that they’re going to go again.

He lifts one of his arms and glowers at the light fixtures attached to his wrist. “Why’d you have to burn out in the middle of the take?” he asks it rhetorically. “We were doing so well. I was so cool when I rolled over onto my belly and everything.”

Hyoje-hyung snickers, giving Changmin’s calf one last knead, before tapping him on the knee. “Come on,” he says. “Time to look alive.”

“I’m going to mess up on purpose tomorrow in the water,” Changmin tells him darkly, but gets to his feet anyway.

He throws a thankful am around Hyoje-hyung shoulders, hiding a yawn, and wanders over to Yunho to see the footage.

Yunho hands the phone over wordlessly, deep in conference with Director-nim, and plants his feet more firmly against the floor, stance widening, so that Changmin can very gently lean on him without the cameras noticing.

\--

The water stuff goes about as well as Changmin had expected. Both he and Yunho take fall after fall, some of which make the DVD cut, some of which garner winces and shouts of ‘CUT’ while their managers watch with wary eyes and their stylists nail-bite over the costumes.

At one point Yunho reaches out for Changmin, probably before he can think better of it, and Changmin feels the warmth of his hand like a brand all the way down his side.

He shoves the hand away, lips thinning, and takes a dancer-hyung’s hand instead.

They’re short on time, stretched thin, and still have to do the close ups in these costumes before they can be set free, so Changmin doesn’t have time to wallow in pity, just has to get up, get in position, and go.

At his side, Yunho sneezes.

Changmin shoots him a quick look, half concerned, but Yunho just smiles, waves him off, and--the _asshole_ \--asks if they can do the dance once more time.

That _dick_.

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I did not do for this chapter: watch any of the performances mentioned for sexual tension or what have you. (fiction etc idek man like sometimes the muse is like 'make them bone' and you must give in.) Things I did do this chapter: weep profusely over the fact that no one subbed the catch me production video b/c HOW. THE HELL. AM I. TO DATE. THIS VIDEO.
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/159117941435/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	4. september 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooo September wooooo. God of Victory is so funny wow. Anyway, betaed once again by Scar, who is the best. All other mistakes are my own. Brief shout out to Vic for taking time out of her real life life to help me on a sentence.

**four.** _september 2012_

\--

Yunho is fucking _sick_ , and Changmin is going to kill him.

It’s the water--it has to have been the water--and Changmin is kicking himself for not noticing _sooner._ As it stands, he can’t do much of anything about it except make sure to keep bringing Yunho water bottles in between shots and trying to make up for the fact that he decided that he’d be the one being carried for the whole. _Carrying_ thing.

To be fair, Changmin is above all else lazy, and the PD had seemed to find it funny when Changmin said it. It was only once Yunho had lifted him up, when he was tucked against his massive chest reconsidering his entire life, that Changmin had realized that Yunho’s heart was pounding, he was definitely warmer than usual, and the flush wasn’t from embarrassment.

He’d spent the next twenty minutes heckling the older man in between takes, bringing him every water bottle he could get his hands on, and making vaguely threatening faces at Kyungjae-hyung every time the man laughed at Changmin for the water bottle thing.

Yunho snaps sometime after the crying session. “Changmin-ah,” he says, voice very, very tight. “Please stop doing that.”

Changmin had been following Yunho around simply to see if he could annoy him into admitting illness, so he silently punches the air. “Why?”

“Because you’re giving me a fucking headache,” Yunho snaps, anger threaded underneath his words.

Changmin stops shifting his weight from foot to foot and tries not to look too gleeful. “And?”

“And I don’t feel good, alright?” Yunho growls, and shoves at his bangs.

The show’s been going quite well so far, but Yunho keeps failing at everything, which is working for the PD but is obviously taking its toll on Yunho.

Changmin needs something to do with his hands. Maybe he should get another water bottle.

“If you bring me one more water bottle, Changdol, I swear,” threatens Yunho. He drops his head into his hands, and tugs at his hair.

Changmin winces, knowing fully well how much it sucks to have a headache for filming, and reaches out so that he can pat him or something. Maybe give him a massage.

And then they get called back to action--time to go hang off a bar and fight with their legs--and Yunho actually groans.

Changmin is suddenly thankful that they’re due for a Huang-ssi appointment after filming, because wow. This whole finding Yunho-hyung hot thing is really not good for him, it seems.

Yunho doesn’t appear to be moving anytime soon, and Changmin touches him on the shoulder.

“Hyung,” he says.

Yunho sighs, gives his hair one last tug, before lifting his head and sliding his mask back into place. “Yeah.”

Changmin feels bad, suddenly, for forcing the break in the image Yunho’s working so hard to project.

“I’ll just get you some water,” he says, like a broken record, and then books it before Yunho can see him blushing.

\--

“... and then he carried me for like. Twenty minutes,” says Changmin, feeling instantly more relaxed.

It’s lucky Yunho’s still sick, exhausted from the filming, and given up on trying to get Changmin to stop doing whatever it is he’s doing, and has been doing, for the entire meeting.

Oversharing, probably, but mostly taking advantage of their paid therapy to let out stress.

Huang-ssi seems pleased that Changmin’s talking so much, even though she also seems worried about Yunho, who hasn’t said so much as three words.

“Yunho-ssi?” she says, looking concerned.

Changmin glances at him, also concerned, but less blatant, and decides to keep talking in hopes that it gives Yunho more time to sit here with his brain turned off. They’re so busy--he really can’t afford to be sick right now.

“I didn’t even know he was sick until he picked me up the first time,” Changmin says. “And then he was too much of an overcaring idiot to tell anyone. I swear he could have just told the P--”

Yunho sticks a leg out and kicks Changmin in the shin.

“--rest of our group yoga class that he wasn’t feeling well,” finishes Changmin, shin aching.

“Group yoga?” Huang-ssi jots that down.

Changmin doesn’t know how to explain and he flounders, which has Yunho sighing and unfurling a little.

“It was recommended to us by our company,” he says, which is kind of true, Changmin figures. “It was our first time doing it in a long time.”

“I’ll say,” says Changmin, snorting. “Have you always been this appalling at var--” He cuts himself off. “Yoga?”

Yunho shoots him an ugly look. “Everyone said it was charming.”

Changmin snorts. “Oh it was pregnancy inducing.” He goes to toss his hair out of his eyes, remembers he doesn’t have hair, and scowls. “Even the bit where that Gwangju street kid called me an old man.”

“Hey!” Yunho actually looks less like a zombie person. “I was a Gwangju street kid! What have you got against Gwangju street kids?”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “You were an asshole when you were a Gwangju street kid, Hyung.”

“I wasn’t a street kid when I met you!”

“You were as good as a street kid.”

“I wasn’t living on the street when I met you!”

“You acted like it!”

“Yeah well your…ears are funny looking!”

Changmin’s mouth shuts the moment that sinks in. He covers the ears in question, horrified. “Hyung!” he whines, suddenly inconceivable self-conscious.

Yunho rolls his eyes. “Shut up--you know you’re handsome.”

Changmin does, but Changmin doesn’t go around _advertising it_. And it’s been days-- _days_ \--since the haircut from hell.

Speaking of.

“Do you think I look twelve, Huang-ssi?” asks Changmin, turning to the woman quickly.

She looks for a second blindsided, no doubt confused by the extreme change of subjects, but manages to answer.

“Um, no?”

“Because Yunho was saying I did,” Changmin continues. “But that Gwangju street kid.” He pauses and waits for an affront from Yunho, but gets none. “Said I looked old. As old as Hyung.” _Shit_. There hadn’t been a ‘Hyung’ for the first half of that sentence.

He shuts his mouth quickly.

Yunho’s lips are pulled into a hard line, his jaw is clenched, and Changmin remembers quite suddenly that things aren’t the same anymore and he has to mind his speech in places like this. Even though this is, as Huang-ssi reminds them constantly, a safe space. It’s still not just the two of them, and there are rules, images, and things that you do and do not do.

Part of Changmin aches, because it’s been two years, and he’s earned the right to banmal in less than that, before, but that was before, and this is now, and Yunho isn’t just one of many hyungs, anymore, he’s _the_ hyung.

“Sorry,” he mutters, aware that Huang-ssi is probably confused, and writing, but knowing he has to say it.

Yunho just tosses his hair out of his eyes, suddenly looking exhausted. “You’re really heavy, by the way,” he says.

“Oh.” Huang-ssi seems to latch onto that. “You mean from the group yoga? It’s good that you’ve started doing that. I’ve often had clients talk about how yoga helps their relationship, as well as their sex lives.”

There’s a pause.

“Right,” Yunho says finally, ignoring that last bit. “The group yoga.”

Changmin follows his lead. “The group yoga where he carried me,” he says. “I didn’t really want him to, but he insisted. He’s like that.” He risks reaching out with a foot to press against Yunho’s and is relieved when he doesn’t get kicked back. “Too good for this wo--for everyone, um.”

“Right,” says Huang-ssi. “And you wish he wouldn’t do that all the time?”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” complains Changmin, feeling validated. “He’s so _nice_ all the time. I feel like a villain by contrast.”

“You’re not a villain, Changmin,” says Yunho.

Changmin ignores him. “Also it makes me look _bad_.” He scowls. “We’re supposed to be a team--instead I feel like I’m just there to make him look better.”

This time Yunho does raise his voice. “That is patently untrue,” he growls, expression livid. “We are a team.”

Changmin feels his hackles raising despite himself. “Yeah well it doesn’t feel like that _a lot_ of the time,” he sends back, nostrils flaring.

Yunho’s lips curl into a sneer, and he tosses his hair out of his eyes. “Is that how you feel?”

Changmin watches the glint of the blond in it and decides it’s _ugly_. “It is.”

“Well then why don’t you just _quit_?” Yunho’s voice is chilling. “Why didn’t you just quit _then_ \--”

Changmin opens his mouth to respond, fully ready to abandon all pretense and let Yunho know how he really feels--how much he _loves_ TVXQ, how much he loves singing, how much he loves the stage, how _unfair_ it is that Yunho acts like he was the only one affected, how _awful_ it is how affected the both were, how they still haven’t damn _talked_ about it--

But then Huang-ssi coughs, breaking the tension, and Yunho goes _pink._

Changmin watches him, feeling absolutely shaken, as the older man stutters through apologies. “I’m so sorry, Huang-ssi,” he says, and he even bows a little, eyes hidden behind his hair. “I’m really not feeling well.”

Huang-ssi waves him off instantly, expression consoling. “No it’s alright it is absolutely alright,” she says quickly. “This is a safe space.”

Changmin snorts.

“I’m here to help you fix things. To do that we need to see what’s broken first.”

Changmin thinks that’s lovely and he’s going to try to put that in a song sometime. Also, he wonders if he can get Kyungjae-hyung to give Huang-ssi a raise.

“Right,” Yunho is saying, when Changmin checks back in. “I mean yes; that makes sense. I’m still sorry, though. That was…inappropriate.”

Changmin rolls his eyes, because now they’re never going to talk about it. It’ll probably be another two years before they talk about it, and Changmin feels exhausted just thinking about it. Maybe he should just let it go.

Huang-ssi waves Yunho off. “You don’t need to apologize,” she says, and smiles one of those brilliant and calming smiles. “Now, about the bedroom.”

Changmin chokes on his own tongue. “Still not that type of relationship!” he sputters out, flashing back to that horrible moment in the bathtub in Japan. “Which is fine with me!”

Huang-ssi writes something down. “And you, Yunho-ssi?”

“Just Yunho is fine,” says Yunho, which isn’t ‘lower your speech’ but is kind of close. Changmin wonders if he should ask after her first name. But that feels too much like accepting her into his life, so he holds his tongue.

“Yunho-ssi,” Huang-ssi insists, probably sensing Changmin’s hesitance like the trained professional she is.

Changmin feel something in his heart soften.

“You just look very tired, is all,” Huang-ssi continues, after a small pause, and Changmin sputters some more.

He doesn’t say anything, because he’s had a good run of not shouting ‘what the fuck’ in Huang-ssi’s face, but that’s all he can think.

Yunho seems equally horrified by the prospect, and Changmin is almost offended. He’s attractive! Everyone he’s been with has said it was amazing! Even Kyuhyun, who like to pretend they didn’t get off together once, can be convinced with a lot of alcohol that Changmin is very good at sex! How _dare_ Yunho besmirch his good name. Or bad name? Changmin snickers, amused.

“Sex is very good for sleep,” Huang-ssi explains, voice calm, and then, she stops. “Oh no--you don’t mean that sex isn’t part of your relationship because sex isn’t part of _any_ of your relationships--Changmin-ssi I’m sorry--”

Changmin’s glad they hired out of country for this, because her concern is nice, and he’s wandered through enough internet forums to get what she’s saying at.

“No,” he says, at the same time as Yunho, and then flushes, because it’s one thing to know your hyung occasionally gets off because you’ve walked in on each other, and it’s another thing to know that your hyung gets off because he offers the information willingly in a therapy session.

But he supposes it’s only fair, given of the two of them, Changmin’s the one who’s actually gotten off to the other.

Which brings them full circle, and leaves Changmin feeling guilty, absurdly.

Huang-ssi looks relieved. “Good to know,” she says, making a pointed note. “But you haven’t--?”

“I’m not comfortable discussing this yet, actually,” says Yunho, like a life saver, and Changmin forgives him for everything else.

“Right,” says Huang-ssi, smiling again. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

Yunho smiles in return, and it’s genuine.

“So tell me more about group yoga?”

“Oh it was good.” Changmin can work with this. “Hyung kept being an _idiot_. In front of the whole nation-- _In front of our entire yoga class_ …!”

\--

Changmin is starting to sense a pattern. They’re in almost the same costumes as Anaheim, seated in front of the same huge sign, holding a mic each, not making eye contact, and Changmin knows instantly that Kyungjae-hyung is going to murder him when he gets off stage.

But they haven’t actually argued this time, which makes the entire situation unfair.

Yunho’s just being preemptively a jerk because he’s made it his life’s mission to force Changmin into public speaking. Changmin’s actually considering taking up speech writing, applying for some more courses at the University and showing up outside Yunho’s room with the syllabus like ‘stop making me talk in public or I will outshine your ass in a heartbeat.’

Other than that, it goes well, since Yunho’s just acting, and Changmin knows he’s just acting, and after the concert, they share a ride back to the hotel.

Yunho spends the first half of the ride alternating between yawning, tapping on his phone, and smirking. The smirking is mostly done while shooting looks around the van and at Changmin, who spends the first half of the ride ignoring him, feeling too exhausted to deal with it.

Finally, Yunho shoves his phone into a pocket and yawns for about five ages. “I got sprayed in the face for _Hope_ , today,” he says.

Changmin’s tired enough that he’s reading double entendres into everything. And tired enough that that shows on his face, since Yunho slaps at him haphazardly.

“Yah!”

Changmin dips his head in apology.

“Anyway I thought coordi-noona was going to murder me, but then I remembered it was the end of the show,” finishes Yunho, closing his eyes before the sentence ends.

Their car slows to a halt in front of the hotel.

Changmin figures he can probably get away with a nondescript hum, at this point.

“And then Siwonie poured water down my shirt,” continues Yunho, fumbling for his seatbelt.  
“And Boa helped.”

Changmin risks a smirk.

“It was awful,” Yunho agrees, without opening his eyes. “I looked like an idiot.”

Changmin snorts “More so than on _God of Victory_?”

Yunho opens one eye a sliver, pouting. “I was sick!”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”

Yunho throws an arm into the space between them and points mindlessly. “You know I was sick,” he accuses. “You kept bringing me water bottles. Even the UV-hyungs noticed.”

People shouldn’t be allowed to look this cute, especially Yunho, so Changmin scoffs.

“A hallucination,” he says. “A fever induced hallucination.”

“So you admit I had a fever,” says Yunho, opening his eyes finally and going a little cross eyed glaring. And then he deflates against the seat with a loud release of breath.

Changmin remembers suddenly that Yunho’s probably still a little sick, given their schedule.

“Comeback is soon,” he says. They’ve got Inkigayo in less than two weeks, and also are due on Running Man that same day, and then they’re into the music program cycle, with Music Bank and Music Core and whatever else back to back to back to back.

Changmin’s actually glad, because he likes this album a lot, but he’s not looking forward to the exhaustion.

As if reading his thoughts, Yunho lets out a loud yawn. His eyes go crinkly in the corners, Changmin swears he can see his damn uvula, and people shouldn’t be allowed to look this cute _especially Yunho_.

Kyungjae-hyung raps on the window suddenly, shattering whatever peace they’d found. “Guys,” their manager says.

Changmin startles--when had Kyungjae-hyung even gotten out of the car?--and Yunho raises a hand in acknowledgement, before continuing to fumble with his seatbelt.

Changmin watches this go on for a minute, before sighing.

“Hyung,” he says, batting Yunho’s dumb hands out of the way and unfastening the buckle. “Did someone drug you?”

Yunho glowers at him from behind bleary eyes, before reaching out to cup both Changmin’s cheeks. Changmin thinks he’s trying to pat him or something, but can’t decide which hand to use, and so ends up with both palms pressed over Changmin’s cheeks.

His hands are already cold and only get worse as Changmin starts to flush, helpless and unable to stop himself.

Yunho smiles at him, earnest and sweet and making Changmin’s entire back itch. “You’re a good dongsaeng, Changdol,” he says, and Changmin has absolutely no idea what to do with that.

He flinches away from Yunho’s hands, which are even colder now that Changmin’s gone to full blushing, and refuses to say anything. What the _fuck_?

“ _Hyung_.” It’s _not_ a whine.

Yunho just smiles at him, soft around the edges, before his mask slides back into place.

Changmin follows suit, heart doing ridiculous thump-thudding thing as they get out of the car.

\--

“I think we should try something new today,” says Huang-ssi, turning a page in her notepad. She’s wearing her hair half up today, front half pulled away from her face and fastened at the back of her head. It’s pretty on her, makes her look younger, and Changmin can see that she’s wearing strawberry earrings. They’re dangling sort, with tiny silver stems and intricate little silver leaves, the seeds black against the red of the fruits themselves, and Changmin finds himself glancing over at Yunho’s ears almost reflexively. They’re still open from _Keep Your Head Down_ promotions.

Then he fumbles and flushes, because Yunho can’t wear dangle earrings.

“A new goals list,” Huang-ssi is saying. “Nothing set in stone, or too strict, but something to help us work towards getting your relationship to it’s fullest. It’s healthiest.”

Changmin almost laughs, because he definitely had a wet dream about Yunho the other night, and you don’t fix _that_. And, great, now he’s thinking about it. About how they’d been on stage, he thinks, for Bibari and Rui? Only there hadn’t been an audience, and Yunho hadn’t been wearing a shirt, and one second Changmin was shouting about how ‘the nuisance has disappeared!’ and the next Yunho was fucking him in the middle of the not quite stage, which had been traumatizing and confusing and not at all _hot_ , was the thing. If they were actually being truthful in therapy Changmin would probably be telling Huang-ssi all these things right the fuck now, in hopes that she’d somehow be able to fix him, or at least give him some advice as to never have another wet dream about Yunho _ever_ again.

“I was thinking we could start with a goal each,” says Huang-ssi, and Changmin is left with the distinct impression that he missed a lot.

“Right,” he says anyway. “Yunho-hyung should go first.”

Yunho glares at him, no doubt fully aware that Changmin’s thoughts were wandering--but hopefully not of _where_ they were wandering--but smiles for their therapist anyway. “Okay,” he agrees. “I guess my goal is for Changminnie to stop being passive aggressive about things he wants from me?”

It’s a question. He’s definitely asking a question.

Changmin would be mocking him for that if he wasn’t immediately trying to purge the images currently assaulting his brain. Because he’d had a vague thought, once upon a time, when after that one Bibari and Rui skit where Yunho was the one trying to keep his shirt on and Changmin got to shout about nuisances or whatever, that maybe it wasn’t so much the skit that bothered him as it was the _roles_ everyone was in. But he’d very quickly locked that feeling deep inside his chest never to be spoken of or thought of again.

Leave it to therapy to drag the thing kicking and screaming right into Changmin’s active thoughts.

Huang-ssi must be some sort of _wizard_.

“Okay.” Huang-ssi is taking everything with stride. “Do you want to be more specific, or leave it at that?’

“No that’s it, that’s what I want,” Yunho says quickly, and turns to Changmin with far too much glee. “Changdol?”

Changmin glares at him, and crosses one leg firmly over the other, even though it puts uncomfortable pressure on his dick. That’s the damn point. “I want Yunho-hyung to stop being passive aggressive towards _me_ ,” he grits out, refusing to look away from Yunho’s eyes. “Starting now--what the _fuck_ kind of goal is that?”

Yunho rolls his eyes at him. “Changmin you’re the most passive aggressive person I know,” he says. “Don’t tell me this is news to you.”

“You’re the hyung!” Changmin sputters out, voice cracking a little bit and going high pitched. “Sorry if I don’t feel comfortable--”

“That’s a laugh,” interrupts Yunho, definitely cruel now. “You have no problem ragging on me for my bathroom practices on live TV.”

And Changmin would murder him but Huang-ssi makes a confused noise--“Live TV?”--so they have to scramble for an excuse that makes sense in the context of their not famous relationship. Thing.

“At group yoga,” says Changmin. “I like to overshare at group yoga.” He winces, feeling a little bit like an idiot. “But our, uh, friends really like it?”

Yunho is shaking his head. “You have no trouble being loud about your problems with me in front of other people, Changmin,” he says. “I’m just saying I wish you could do that at home as well.”

And that’s. That’s actually kind of a relief, Changmin thinks. He wouldn’t mind being able to be a little less perfect dongsaeng in the house. Or to not feel guilty whenever he has to dress Yunho down in the name of keeping their apartment livable.

“Oh,” says Changmin. “Scratch my goal, then.”

Huang-ssi makes a show of crossing something out on the paper.

Changmin really does like her a lot, now that he thinks about it.

Yunho sighs. “I’ll change mine too,” he decides. “I want to be able to talk to Changmin.”

Changmin stiffens. “What’s that supposed to mean--” he starts to protest.

“Here me out.” Yunho glances at him quickly. “I want to be able to talk to you again,” he says again. “Like. Without feeling like I’m on eggshells.”

This is getting far too heavy for Changmin’s comfort zone. “Fine,” he agrees quickly. “Fine, okay, can that be my goal too, then?”

He absolutely doesn’t want that to be his goal, but he also wants to get the hell out of this conversation as quickly as possible.

Huang-ssi picks up on that, and nods. “That’s fine,” she says. “This is just a starting point, anyway. We can always revisit it.”

Changmin nods.

Yunho nods.

Neither of them look at each other.

“Now.” Huang-ssi manages some cheer. “Let’s talk about next week. You’re seeing me on Monday instead, correct?”

Changmin inclines his head towards Yunho’s slightly. “Yeah,” he says. “We’re going to be really busy on the second, is all.”

Yunho is nodding. “Our schedules are pretty full.”

Huang-ssi makes a sympathetic noise. “That’s fine; your friend Kyungjae-ssi already ran it by me a while ago. You two are incredibly busy for businessmen.”

Changmin laughs nervously, not really sure what to say. Perhaps they should text Kyungjae-hyung after the meeting, in case they break their cover. “So busy.”

“Busy busy,” agrees Yunho.

“Very. Busy,” repeats Changmin.

They smiles simultaneously, the rehearsed ones, for flash bulbs on red carpets.

Huang-ssi doesn’t seem to buy it, but she doesn’t press. “Monday it is, then,” she says. “Now we’ve got about a twenty minutes left if you have anything you want to say? Or we can end early…?”

“I’ve got something,” says Yunho, at the same time Changmin says, “ending now is good,” and it’s awkward it’s _so_ awkward.

For a moment neither of them say anything.

Finally, Yunho sighs, conceded. “I think we’re both a little tired actually,” he says, which is true. “We might go home. We can make up the minutes next Monday?”

“Fine with me,” says Huang-ssi. “See you next week.”

“Yeah,” says Changmin, more out of obligation, and gets to his feet to follow Yunho out of the room. “Hyung?”

“We’re not actually going home,” Yunho tells him quietly, making a face at Kyungjae-hyung when they pass him on their way out into the hallway. “We’ve got to practice.”

Changmin is all of the sudden done. “Hyung,” he snaps.

“You’re late turning over,” Yunho continues, like an utter asshole, and Changmin makes a point to stride ahead of him on their way to the practice rooms, the burn in his thighs a pleasant distraction.

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/159314398850/viva-my-life-started-to-shine-author-zimriya) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	5. october 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Me, writing this chapter:** I wonder if it’s possible to even fuck during Music Bank anyway like would someone come looking for them would they have time? Maybe I can just make them bone when the pre-recorded stuff airs?
> 
>  **Flamingo, by text, with absolutely no context:** Do it anyway
> 
>  **Also me, five thousand words deep, writing pure filth:** You’re right this is too filthy to get cut we’re doing it.
> 
> Please send me help.
> 
> Betaed by Scar, all other mistakes my own, translation, etc WELCOME TO THE RUNNING MAN CHAPTER. Aka when this fic earned its rating. Aka what is wordcount.

**five**. _october 2012_

\--

 _Running Man_ is an experience.

Changmin loves the show. He loves the people. Getting to slam Yunho off a platform into the mud for other people’s entertainment is great. When it’s all cut together he’s certain it’ll be lovely, entertaining, and laugh-out-loud funny. All that said, he’s been up for ages, the shoes the stylists stuffed him into aren’t quite his size, and he’s pretty sure he’s still got a bit of mud behind his ears. Also, he didn’t get to condition his hair properly in the shower they took between sets, which is not really Yunho’s fault so much as the filming schedule, but it was Yunho who banged on the door and Yunho who came into the room before Changmin finished draping the towel around his waist.

He hasn’t asked, and he’s _never going to_ , but he thinks Yunho saw his ass.

Which is.

Changmin’s not thinking about that.

Trivia is entertaining, at least. Changmin feels like he should be quicker on the answers for their first go around, but succeeding so quickly wouldn’t be that great either. And Yunho and Jaesuk-hyung don’t get it on their first try either.

And then Jongkook-hyung’s VJ hits Yunho in the balls with the volleyball and Changmin finds himself smacking the man in the ass with the rest of the main cast.

“What are you doing!” shouts Kwangsoo-hyung, first to Yunho’s side, and Haha-hyung, Sukjin-hyung, and Jaesuk-hyung are quick to follow.

Changmin ends up blocking the camera, then, when that seems uncomfortable, he joins them all in the ass patting, and tries not to think too much into that. He can tell Yunho’s actually embarrassed about it, and not really in pain, but the older man is definitely playing along, draped across the railing laughing into the waves.

It’s fine anyway; nothing Yunho does this time around will top the rhino. _Nothing_.

The chicken fight is more of a spectacle than Changmin had been expecting, but Yunho falling on his ass is always good.

Haha-hyung has a kid shout for them.

Changmin thinks he can see Kyungjae-hyung laughing to one of their other staff, no doubt commenting about how the kid’s going to give Changmin a run for his money, and he scowls.

“Hey,” Yunho says, wandering past. “You okay?”

Changmin can’t risk rolling his eyes in public, so he just nods tensely. He survives the experience, but only barely. Luckily Kwangsoo-hyung and Sukin-hyung are around to fail for them, so Changmin and Haha-hyung join Jongkook-hyung and Geunyoung on the chasing team.

It’s the staple _Running Man_ event, bells and all, and Changmin feels rejuvenated, if not a little bit tired, which means it’s a relief that he and Haha-hyung stumble upon Yunho and Kwangsoo-hyung hidden in a conference room.

“Do you think you can force the door?” Haha-hyung is in the middle of saying, huddled around the other door with one eye on their prey, when the door creaks open and Yunho comes out at full speed.

They take off after him, loud and obnoxious in their glee, and Changmin takes a corner wide, heart pounding.

He leaves Haha-hyung in pursuit, turning around and making for the other hallway. The office is a square. He should be able to cut Yunho off easily.

It takes them two near misses and one door scrabble before Changmin is able to force Yunho to the ground with his back exposed, and Haha-hyung hauls the tag off with relish.

Changmin decides it’s because he’s tired, muddy, and fully aware of the fact that they have _Inkigayo_ filming all day tomorrow that pinning Yunho to the ground is getting to him. Because it really shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Sure, getting chased by Jongkook-hyung last time had been mildly exhilarating, but mostly it had been terrifying. Chasing Yunho by contrast is mostly arousing.

On the plus side, Yunho seems affected too, chest heaving, pupils blown, as he stares up at Changmin with a dumb grin on his face.

The PD announces that “U-Know Yunho” is “out” on the overhead, and Yunho collapses back to the floor, still breathing hard.

“Like this,” says Haha-hyung, reaching out to put Yunho through one of his trademark overreactions, and Yunho follows along good-naturedly.

This is good, because it means no one is focused on Changmin, standing awkwardly to one side, eyes wide, mouth open, and cock terribly, terribly half hard.

\--

Kwangsoo-hyung finds a running ball with Changmin’s name on it several moments later, and Changmin can only laugh when they tell him, over the top and exactly what the PD is looking for.

“Kwangsoo-hyung did?” he repeats several times to only further hammer the point in, before being escorted off to the room standing in as a jail.

Sukjin-hyung and Yunho take up two of the chair, surrounded by their VJs and other cameras. They must be in-between takes, because they’re both gathered around someone’s phone, and after a moment, they each do the V-signs.

Changmin debates walking right back out. He looks terrible. No way he wants to do selcas.

He does it anyway, because Yunho is watching and Sukjin-hyung is very kind, and finally they’re left alone to sit and wait while the rest of the game rushes on.

Changmin hopes Jongkook-hyung and Geunyoung can catch everyone, especially Jihyo-noona, who Changmin knows is getting a reputation as being the team Ace.

“Changdol, hi,” Yunho says when Changmin approaches his chair, smiling up at him with a huge smile.

Changmin’s heart starts racing.” Hyung,” he says, sitting.

“How’d you get out so early, anyway?” asks Sukjin-hyung, from the side. “Jongkook-hyung?”

Changmin feels a flush starting at the base of his neck. “Kwangsoo-hyung found a ball with my name on it,” he admits, sighing.

Sukjin-hyung laughs, honestly amused, spinning the conversation in a practiced and humorous way.

Yunho ends up laughing at his own expense, one hand tucked around the back of his head, the other resting on his thighs.

Has he always sat that spread out? Changmin had noticed in the helicopter, when their legs were touching nearly all the way down, but thinking back to other times they’ve been pressed together, he’s surprised he hasn’t noticed or been bothered by it.

He yawns suddenly, weariness creeping up on him, and shoots a glance to the cameras around them. No one appears to be shooting them, gathered instead around walkie-talkies and phones. Changmin wonders if he could get away with a quick nap.

“Hyung,” Yunho says suddenly, turned fully around to face Sukjin-hyung. “Do you know if they need more footage of us?”

Sukjin-hyung looks up from his phone, eyes kind. “I don’t think yet,” he says. “They’ll probably come back for more if anyone comes to visit, or if we say anything particularly funny.” He laughs. “Or if Jaesukie gets out. They always want footage of Jaesukie in jail.”

Yunho nods. “That makes sense.”

Changmin wonders where he’s going with this.

“Do you mind if Changminnie and I nap, then?” Yunho asks, looking a little bit embarrassed, but powering through anyway. “We’ve got _Inkigayo_ pre-recording tomorrow, and then we’re in rehearsals and practice until the next batch of shows.”

Changmin’s heart starts skipping beats in a worrying way.

Sukjin-hyung laughs good-naturedly and makes a quip about how they won’t have to pull horrendous hours anymore once they’ve been in the business for as long as he has.

Yunho banters back about how they’ll want to, about how he wants to be doing TVXQ until they’re telling him to stop doing it, and Changmin ducks his head to see if he can sleep so he doesn’t have to listen to it.

Yunho nudges him awake after what feels like seconds later. “It’s been twenty minutes,” he says quietly, which Changmin knows it the optimal amount of time for a nap to leave you feeling awake, without the usual grogginess. It hasn’t really helped, though.

Kwangsoo-hyung has arrived, dressed as a policeman, and Changmin manages to get his brain working long enough to make jokes at his own expense.

\--

The intro video for ‘Catch Me’ is brutal. They’re stuck under the stage, crouched down, waiting to be shot up for the video dancing, and Changmin is already tired from yesterday’s day of variety. It takes them twenty-three takes to get it done, lots of waiting, lots of awkward frustration, but the fans shout for them every time and stick around through all of the video flubs.

‘Catch Me’ itself is even worse, because they’re doing the dance all the way through over and over. They’re not even doing it in only one outfit. Changmin’s only seen the sequined suits once, but they’re something, alright. Changmin drew the short straw and is sparkling in the front, but Yunho’s back is a sight to behold without the multifaceted reflections.

Changmin would probably appreciate it more if he didn’t feel quite like he was dying. The moment the last note sounds and the PD calls cut, he’s off towards the break room, trying not to look too much like death came early.

He can hear Yunho following behind him, breaths coming hard, but also taking the time to speak to the dancer-hyungs and the staff as they pass.

The moment they reach the room Changmin makes a beeline for the couches, collapsing across one with his hand stretched out towards the water bottles. He doesn’t know whose it is, but he doesn’t even care, because he needs water instantly.

He hears the door open for Yunho before it closes after him, sound cutting off the moment it shuts.

Changmin screws the cap off the water bottle and takes great gulps of water, lips sealed around the bottle.

“How many do we have to do?” he manages between gulps, not looking over at Yunho.

A shadow crosses in front of him, and the hands settle onto his shoulders, right between the bones, fingers digging into the tensing muscles corded along his spine.

Changmin moans, unabashed in his appreciation, and rolls his head down onto the seat cushion in the hopes that Yunho will go for his neck.

There’s a pause, and then one of Yunho’s hands comes up to pet at Changmin’s nape, fingers coming away wet and slippery from the sweat gathering at the hair there.

Changmin feels disgusting.

Yunho’s fingers dig in.

Changmin nearly bites his tongue off keeping in the moan.

“At least three,” says Yunho, voice low. “And then the costume change.”

Changmin groans, half because of _at least three_ , and half because of Yunho’s left hand, kneading at the knotted mess of his back.

“Sorry,” Yunho says, like it was his idea.

It was his idea. Changmin should have left while he had the chance.

Only, no. Changmin lives for this. Changmin wants to make this performance one of the greatest they’ve ever done, but Changmin is also this close to falling asleep.

Yunho seems to notice and his hands stop, pulling away from Changmin with a barely there breath.

Changmin whines at the loss, brows furrowing, and he doesn’t burrow into the hand Yunho puts in his hair so much as he leans into it.

Everything aches.

“Fighting, Changdol,” Yunho says, very quietly, and then gives his hair a small tug.

Changmin moans, this time without warning, without reason, and the room is suddenly very awkward.

And then Yunho does it again, and Changmin flops over onto his back so he can make eye contact because _what the fuck_.

Yunho’s eyes are blown, his lips are parted, and he looks about three seconds from tugging again, but there’s a knock on the door and they’re being sent back out to do it again.

It takes eight more takes before the PD, their managers, Changmin, and Yunho are all happy with the performance. The sequins are the worst, because well tailored suits are not usually suited to dancing, and ‘Catch Me’ has no room for half-assery.

Changmin almost worries for Yunho’s inseam, but he’s too busy trying to keep the air in his lungs and hit all the high notes. Even Yunho lags a little, in the middle, arms tired from all the gesturing, but by the ninth take they’ve got it to the PD’s liking.

They do microphone hot potato for far too long--Changmin because he patently refuses and Yunho because he’s an asshole who’s still pushing the damn public speaking thing.

Finally Yunho steps up the plate, leader as he is. “Thank you all so much for coming,” he says. “Cassiopeia fighting. We love you so much.” And then he goes on about how the fans gave them strength, how they’re the best, and thanks the staff.

Changmin stands and nods and tries to breathe.

They break for dinner, which is good, but Changmin knows better than to relax, because they still have to get through ‘How Can I.’

The pendulums are awful.

They keep breaking, or not connecting properly, and just plain malfunctioning, and Changmin is about three seconds from committing mass murder.

Their fans are still there, still screaming, still wonderful, and Changmin tries to find strength in them.

Yunho’s silent for most of the takes, breath coming hard, smiles coming slow, and always keeping an eye on the water bottle.

Changmin’s too exhausted at this point to care, and he thinks his legs might be shaking.

When they’re finally released it’s nearly one a.m. and Changmin is nearly sobbing with joy at the thought of his bed.

\--

Changmin can’t sleep. It doesn’t make sense, given how tired he is, but he’s been lying in his bed for twenty minutes now staring at the ceiling, and then at the glowing numbers on his clock, and then at his own pillow.

Finally he gets up, heaves himself upright, and pouts.

“Why?” he asks somewhat rhetorically, and then jerks the word out into the song, feeling the need to wail at the top of his lungs about lost relationships.

His door creaks open.

It’s Yunho, because of course it is, but Changmin sleeps without a shirt now, and he’s still flighty about sasaengs, so he slaps both hands over his nipples with a yelp.

Yunho just stares at him unimpressedly, before crossing the floor to set both knees on the bed. “Changmin,” he says.

Changmin stares at him, takes in the state of his hair, the bags under his eyes, and the threadbare t-shirt covering his torso. “Hyung,” he says.

Yunho distributes his weight more evenly on the bed, frowning, before crawling his way up towards Changmin. He ends up essentially straddling Changmin’s lap, still frowning, arms crossing across his front.

Changmin puts his hands on his hips without a thought trying to steady him, and then hates himself, since Yunho’s only wearing boxers, and he ends up with more skin than cloth.

It’s cold in Changmin’s room, as always, and Yunho’s nipples are pebbling beneath the fabric. He’s got goosebumps on his hips.

Changmin is so utterly fucked.

“Hyung,” he says again.

Yunho sits his ass down right on Changmin’s dick without warning. “I’m tired,” he decides.

Changmin is so utterly, utterly fucked. “Me too,” he gets out. “Um.”

Yunho bites at his lip, pulling it between his teeth and turning the flesh red and raw looking.

Changmin wants to bite him.

Changmin’s brain has run screaming to the hills.

He swallows.

And then Yunho sighs, seemingly embarrassed, before rolling off of Changmin and to the side.

Changmin allows himself a moment of relief, staring up at the ceiling wondering if he needs to get up and deal with his sudden erection for a long few minutes.

Finally, Yunho sighs again, and rolls to look at Changmin.

Changmin does not roll and look back.

“Look, Changdol,” says Yunho, voice to the point. “Huang-ssi keeps asking us about our non-existent sex life, right?’

Changmin’s brain, which had returned from its scream-filled vacation, promptly turns on its heel.

“And she also said that sex helps with a couple’s sleep schedule.”

Changmin wonders if a brain can leak out of your ears. His certainly feels like it.

“And we’re both _exhausted_.”

Changmin weighs that in his mind. _True._

“And this way she might get off our backs.”

This would probably be the point in the conversation where Changmin should point out that Huang-ssi has actually been very nice about the sex thing, taking her cues from Changmin and Yunho’s apparent discomfort and leaving the topic well enough alone. But given the fact that his brain is currently wailing over the side of a cliff, his dick logs in and decides this is the best course of action.

Changmin hasn’t gotten laid in ages.

He rolls the fuck over.

“Your logic is sound,” he tells Yunho, like an absolute tool, and kisses him.

\--

Fucking Jung Yunho is probably not one of the most well thought-out things Changmin has ever done. It’s probably well up there on the ‘ten worst decisions Shim Changmin has ever made’ list his mother probably started the moment they went off to train in the first place, only, no, it’s not, because this is not something Changmin is ever planning on sharing with anyone. Let alone his family

Maybe he’ll share it with himself, though, since Jung Yunho in the throes of sex is more glorious than Jung Yunho in the throes of performance, and Changmin’s had more than three moments on stage next to him without proper air for how _at home_ he looks.

He certainly looks at home now, head thrown back, hair a mess, face glistening, red marks littering his chest because Changmin’s a genius, mouth hanging open and hands scrabbling at Changmin’s back like he can’t quite keep grip.

“ _Changmin_ \--”

He’s moaning Changmin’s name, has been for the past ten minutes, and Changmin might be having a midlife crisis at the tender age of twenty four but at least he’s dying as millions of fangirls around the world want to.

While fucking Jung Yunho.

Yunho gets one eye open, manages to close his mouth slightly, and blinks up at Changmin like he’s seeing for the first time in years. “You’re thinking something stupid,” he decides, clenching down.

Changmin feels a groan rip from the back of his throat, eyes rolling back, and just sort of falls forward. He might as well stay here, as he’s really quite tired, even buried as he is, balls deep inside Yunho.

Yunho whines suddenly, high in his throat, and Changmin pays careful attention to what he’s done on the next stroke, relying on muscle memory and quick thinking to get his hips moving in a rhythm that has Yunho shuddering, head tossing against the pillow and nails ripping across the Changmin’s back.

“Chang-- _dol_ ,” Yunho wails, voice cracking.

Changmin would laugh, but Changmin agrees, and moans, and leans in close to pepper kisses along Yunho’s jaw line. “This is the greatest idea you’ve ever had,” he tells Yunho’s Adam’s apple, sliding a hand down Yunho’s side and tickling his ribs to make him shudder. “Even better than the light-up arms.”

Yunho’s eyes slit open. “’was Tony’s idea,” he says, formalities completely gone. “Not mine.”

Changmin changes course with his hands, gripping at Yunho’s hip, then ass, and then, as an afterthought, going straight for his cock.

Yunho moans, eyes flicking shut again. “Again.”

Changmin’s grip falters as he loses his train of thought, mind stuck on the whine behind Yunho’s words.  

“Hyung,” he says.

Yunho gets his eyes open somehow through force of will, probably, making a point to make eye contact with Changmin as they go racing towards the finish line. He hooks a leg around Changmin’s waist. “You’re talking too pretty,” he says.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” says Changmin, hips snapping forward in three hurried thrusts, before his brain catches up and he slows, trying to keep from gasping too obviously. That’s where he’d been, before he got distracted by all the warm heat between them.

“You know what I _mean,_ Changdol,” Yunho whines out, and has the gall to look coy as he slides one leg up all the way to rest about Changmin’s shoulder.

Changmin’s throat goes dry and he pulls back slightly, back uncurving, so that there’s less of a strain on Yunho’s hips. He wouldn’t want him to pull something; they’ve got concerts.

Yunho grins.

“I don’t know what you mean,” says Changmin, more breathy than he would like.

Yunho clenches down on Changmin’s dick with glee, calf sliding along the slope of Changmin’s shoulder as he hitches his hips up.

“You’re awfully formal for being balls deep, Changdol,” says Yunho, the _asshole_.

Changmin makes an ugly garbled noise and reaches for Yunho’s ankle, tugging the leg down off his shoulder and shoving it back towards the other. The angle changes, probably not for worse, but Yunho presses his thighs together around the v of Changmin’s hips and groans, eyes falling shut again.

Changmin checks the clock. It’s been half an hour. “We’re going to be so tired tomorrow,” he grits out, sliding a hand up Yunho’s side and resting it next to his nipple, debating if he could get away with more kisses. Kisses are the best.

Yunho makes a pleased noise and shoves up against Changmin’s palm, before sliding his own hand down his torso to reach for his cock. “Well we could always speed things up--”

“Yah, no,” growls Changmin, informal and grabbing for that hand so he can haul it up above his head. He leans down and rests his weight on his own forearms, which eases the ache in his back as he plants his knees and _fucks_ , eyes boring holes into Yunho’s cheekbones, Yunho’s lips, and finally Yunho’s own, brown, and blown, and oh so soft.

It reminds him of _Running Man_ , of pinning Yunho in front of more cameras than people and having to work so very hard to keep from jumping him then and there.

Changmin thinks he might say something stupid, might ruin whatever moment and lapse in judgement they’ve had to end up here, but then, Yunho whines, high in the back of his throat, and leans up to kiss Changmin.

And Changmin can get behind that, Changmin is so behind that, Changmin decides he should be literally behind that, so he pulls out without pause and hauls Yunho up none too gently, one arm gripping him around the waist the other playing around his collarbones and he fucks right back in without warning or finesse.

“Yes,” Yunho groans, sounding lost, and Changmin follows him over moments later, breathless and dizzy and suddenly _exhausted._

“You’re cleaning that up,” Changmin manages after what feels like years, chest heaving as he lies mostly out of the wet spot, one arm draped over Yunho’s chest and the other hanging off his bed. It’s really not big enough for the two of them like this, barely touching, but Changmin will take the sticky back over the cuddling.

“It’s your room,” Yunho points out, voice sounding incredibly hoarse.

Changmin decides to hit him in the chest, the effect only slightly ruined by the fact that he keeps his hand there afterwards, fingers searching, and searching, before he gets a grip on a nipple and pinches.

Yunho yelps, more a moan than anything, before rolling over to smother Changmin.

Changmin cackles, voice catching, kicking out with both legs and trying not to be too obvious in his laughter. “What are you--Hyung, _no_ \--we are not _cuddling_ \--!”

“I dunno, Changmin, we seem to be,” Yunho says, with his hand on Changmin’s bare ass.

Changmin hates him. “You’re the worst person in the world,” he says.

Yunho gives Changmin’s ass a pat. “Love you too,” he says, which is so totally confusing, before getting up out of the bed and leaving the room.

Presumably to go back to his own room, only Changmin is left reeling for a moment, worrying that Yunho’s leaving _for good_ , before he hears the sound of a shower starting down the hall.

And that’s just like. What even the _fuck_?

“What the fuck?” says Changmin, not for the first time, and sits up. He gets out of the wet spot, gets out of the bed, and is halfway to the bathroom so that he can give Yunho a piece of his mind, before he stops, heart racing.

What is he even _doing?_

“We’re not in a relationship,” he tells himself, after a moment's pause. “We’re just fucking.” He doesn’t sound convincing. Probably no one would believe him, not even his fans. Hell, he wouldn’t believe himself, given he was about five steps from barging into Yunho’s shower to demand answers. He’ll just have to settle for answers here, shouted across the room a safe distance away. “Yunho-hyung!” His voice sounds foreign to his ears, and the slide back into jondaemal is almost jarring. “Are we in a relationship?”

There’s a beat.

Changmin debates sticking his head into their washing machine for a rinse cycle.

“Go back to sleep, Changmin-ah!” Yunho shouts finally, voice sounding funny. “We have rehearsal in the morning.”

Changmin doesn’t know what to do with that.

\--

“I meant it you know,” says Yunho, suddenly, with two fingers buried to the hilt in Changmin’s ass. “About lowering your speech.”

Changmin chokes on air, tries to voice something about how he’s going to be lowering Yunho’s _grave_ , but they’re currently at the KBS building surrounded by more people and their mother’s, hiding in a broom closet--in a _broom closet_ \--fucking. “Hyung,” he grits out finally, when Yunho stops messing around and hooks both fingers up like he knows what he’s doing. “This is _the worst time_.”

Yunho hums, stroking at Changmin’s left hip, before tugging him back against his torso more solidly, stepping forward in the cramped space so he can better pin Changmin to the wall. “Well we can’t talk about it anywhere else,” Yunho points out, adding a third finger before Changmin can sass him. “Unless you want to really tell Huang-ssi about our sex life--”

“ _We’re not telling Huang-ssi_ more _about our sex life_!” Changmin whisper-yells, voice going embarrassingly high pitched. “And I already said I was sorry about that--you don’t have to murder my ass over it!” He hadn’t meant for the first thing he said to Huang-ssi for their weekly appointment to be ‘so we’re having sex now’ but it was and he’s still regretting it and living with the consequences twenty-four hours later.

Yunho makes a clucking noise in the back of his throat and pulls all three fingers out, tapping them against Changmin’s side like a complete tool.

They’re cold from the considerable amount of lube they’ve used, and Changmin has an odd thought about why Yunho’s walking around at music programs carrying packets of lube.

“Changmin.” Yunho sounds disapproving. “I am not going to murder your ass.” As counter to his words, he sticks all three fingers back in without warning.

Changmin doesn’t shout out but that’s only because of Yunho’s other hand, which he shoves over the top of Changmin’s mouth like the psychic overachiever he is.

Changmin bites him gently out of spite. “Yes you _are_ ,” he wails out informally, but quietly.

Yunho clucks again, fingers gentling, and tilts Changmin’s head back so he can meet his eyes. “That wasn’t very nice,” he says.

Changmin scowls, done with the teasing, and turns around so that he can face Yunho fully, ignoring the slight ache in his gut when that pulls Yunho’s fingers free and leaves Changmin’s ass bare against the wall of the broom closet. “Make up your damn mind,” he growls.

Yunho’s lips purse and thin, and his hands drop to his own zipper.

It’s good that they’re not due in the studio for the pre-recording yet. What’s not good is that they’re probably overdue for their costume change. Changmin had barely set foot back in their dressing room before Yunho was dragging him off to do who knows what.

“I want to say hello to everyone,” he’d said, all smiles and innocent eyes and Changmin had been too tired from the four hours of sleep to do anything but follow along after him.

“Hyung,” Changmin tries, eyes stuck on Yunho’s cock. “We really need to be getting back.”

Yunho makes a humming noise and steps close, one hand reaching down to grab at Changmin’s left thigh and hoisting it up.

Changmin yelps, head spinning and heart pounding.

Yunho pauses. “Maybe you’re right,” he says, head inclining, and he look like he’s about to take a step back so Changmin growls, slaps his hand off his thigh, and hooks a leg around so that he can shove down onto Yunho’s dick.

“Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole,” he growls out, mouth falling open on a few pants. “You’re the worst tease in the world I’m telling Huang- _s-i-i_!” His voice cracks horribly on the honorific when Yunho steps in close, dragging Changmin at an angle so that he’s not really supporting himself against the wall so much as supporting himself on Yunho’s dick.

“When I said lower your speech I didn’t mean curse at me like a sailor,” Yunho explains patiently, even as he starts to move.

Changmin will murder him when this is over. “You’re lucky I saw you limping this morning,” he grits out, chest heaving in time with Yunho’s torturously slow thrusts. “Because otherwise I would absolutely-- _hah_ \--absolutely not-- _ngh_ \--put-- _out_ \--”

Yunho jackknifes against Changmin’s prostate a few times. He’s such an overachiever. Why the hell does Changmin put up with him?

“It’s only fair,” Yunho agrees, one hand sliding down Changmin’s thigh to grip at his ass, pulling their hips closer together, and then tsking when Changmin’s dick drags against the buttons on his shirt. “What would the fans say if you danced better than I did?” And then, letting go of Changmin’s ass in favor of his dick, “Changdol don’t be messy think of our stylists.”

Changmin is going to murder him once he regains the power of speech.

Yunho just grins, wicked, before leaning in close to flutter kisses against Changmin’s jaw. His hand’s moving too fast for his hips, the disjointed rhythm making Changmin’s head spin and his ears go fuzzy. “Coordi-noona missed a spot,” says Yunho.

Changmin slams his head back against the broom closet wall with a muffled groan, feeling more than a little unhinged. “Can we please stop talking about our fucking staff?” he gets out, voice raw.

Yunho just strokes fasters, fucks slower, and makes some more of those beautiful noises that Changmin’s starting to realize mean he’s about to come.

His voice goes dry. “Hyung?” He clenches down, experimental, remembering how it was when Yunho’d done that the night before. “Hyung do you like it when I curse?” He rounds out his vowels, leaves off a few consonants, and doesn’t think too hard about any sort of accent, but also tries to picture Yunho’s home in the back of his head.

Yunho’s hips stutter, his hand goes tight around the base of Changmin’s dick, and Changmin nearly goes boneless when he feels him come.

And then the fact that he’s still on the edge, still has to go be in public with Yunho _in his damn ass_ sinks in, and he scowls. “Oh I hate you,” he grumbles. “We did not think this through.”

Yunho blinks open both eyes at him and smiles, gummy and stupid and way too cute for his own good. “Oops,” he says.

Changmin rolls his eyes, calculating if he has time to spend a horrifying ten minutes in the bathroom trying to fix the situation, and therefore misses the wicked-looking curling around Yunho’s features until the older man is sinking out of Changmin and down to his knees.

“You haven’t come yet,” he says. “And I got you all messy.”

Changmin has a horrible feeling about this.

“We should fix that.”

Changmin thinks: ‘Hyung has watched a lot more porn than we all assumed,’ before he’s too distracted for anything other than Yunho’s name and bitten off curse words.

\--

Kyungjae-hyung glares at them when they wander back to the dressing room a few moments later, but Changmin has no idea why since they’re the picture of innocence and perfectly composed. No one’s hair is messed, no one’s costume is fucked up (Yunho’s pants are a little bit wrinkled but that’s not Changmin’s problem; Yunho can think about his life choices all by himself when Cordi-noona is trying to iron the things while they’re still on or whatever), and if anything, Changmin feels about two years younger and much calmer about the thing.

They’ve pre-recorded the performances already anyway, so they’re just going for the backstage banter and then, after a quick costume change, off to the end of the show.

Changmin hopes they win, but he’s not too convinced, given the sudden global popularity ‘Gangnam Style’ has been having.

Minho appears to have arrived to cheer them on, and he glances between Changmin, Yunho, and their half-bemused staff with avid curiosity. “Hyungs?”

“Minho-yah.” Yunho smiles brightly. “I’m glad you came.”

Changmin spares Yunho a slightly angry glance before heading for his friend, stride only faltering slightly at the wetness in his boxers, fingers crossed no one notices. Especially Minho, who knows all about the masturbation shit show that was SM Town Tokyo.

“Hey,” says Changmin, nudging close to Minho. “How was your last day of filming?”

Minho looks a little bit knowing, but allows the conversation starter like the good dongsaeng he is.

Changmin remembers the last time he thought about good dongsaengs, about Yunho’s tongue in his ass, and has to work very very hard not to flush in a too obvious way.

And then he figures if they’re going to be doing this friends with benefits thing to get Huang-ssi to stop making them talking about their feelings in therapy thing, anyway, he might as well enjoy it to its fullest.

“Hyung?” he says, interrupting Minho’s description of Sulli’s legs or whatever without concern. “What are we recording tomorrow?”

Kyungjae-hyung had been looking between Yunho over by the stylists and Changmin over by Minho with a weird look on his face, but he startles anyway. “Um. Music Core,” he says slowly. “Are you two alright?”

“We’re fine!” Yunho says loudly, full of fake cheer. “In fact we’re wonderful, right, Changmin?” He smiles at cordi-noona and steps away from her pins and prying fingers. “I think they’re calling us. Minho-yah you’re so nice for coming thank you--Changmin!”

Changmin scowls at him and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not a dog, _Hyung_ ,” he grumbles in banmal, ignoring Kyungjae-hyung’s sharp look, and heads for the door.

 _Music Core_ films at the Dream Center. Changmin could probably find a broom closet in the Dream Center to defile Yunho in as revenge.  

After all. It was called the Dream Center.

\--

“So,” says Huang-ssi at their next appointment. “You’ve been busy with work?”

Changmin wonders if she’s going to address his little Freudian slip from last week or if she’s going to let them pretend it never happened. On the one hand, she should probably address it because it was a Freudian slip. On the other hand, Yunho very clearly wants to say _nothing_ whatsoever about it at present.

Changmin thinks back to their wonderful little romp during _Music Core_ filming and understands where he’s coming from.

“Incredibly busy,” he tells Huang-ssi instead. “We joined a travelling acapella group.”

There’s a pause.

“We did what?” Yunho says finally.

“We have performances all around the country on our off days,” Changmin continues, ignoring him. “And sometimes we’re in _Japan_ for that reason.”

“We are?” ask Yunho, and then, “I mean yes we are.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” says Huang-ssi. “You met when you joined the school choir, isn’t that right?”

“Yep.” Changmin smiles earnestly at her. “I’m surprised you remember.”

‘ _Traveling acapella group_ ,’ Yunho mouths, in the quick second it takes for Huang-ssi to write something down on her notepad.

Changmin kicks him.

Huang-ssi laughs, rubbing at the back of her neck. “It’s kind of my job.”

“But you must have other clients?” Changmin prompts, even as Yunho bows his head and hides his eyes behind his bangs. His shoulders shake a little; Changmin is amazed; it’s not _that_ funny.

Huang-ssi allows the line of questioning, but doesn’t offer details. Changmin supposes that makes sense, given the NDAs. And she’s apparently a bit of a big deal, according to Kyuhyun, who apparently got drunk with Minho after one of Minho’s longer drama filmings and looked her up extensively.  

“And I know last time we talked a little bit about hobbies you have outside of each other,” says Huang-ssi, after a moment’s pause.

Changmin chokes a little, brain romping through the gutter.

“I know you were talking about wanting to go bowling with friends from home, Yunho-ssi?”

Yunho finally raises his head. “Yes,” he says. “I’ve been talking with Hojoon-hyung and we’re trying to see if we can get together sometime. But Changminnie and I are really busy with our…acapella group.” He sounds strangled.

Changmin kicks him again; it is not _that_ funny.

“And Changmin-ssi?” Huang-ssi turns to Changmin now, unbothered by the blatant game of footsie happening in front of her. “You were talking about taking your friend Minho out in celebration of his promotion?”

Changmin blinks, and then nods. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “Yeah. Probably once we’re done with all the promo--the acapella stuff.”

Yunho’s head ducks down again, earning himself another kick.

“Kyuhyun and I have close birthdays so we might do something around then.”

Huang-ssi nods. “That sounds fun,” she says.

“It should be,” says Changmin, and tries out a smile.

Huang-ssi goes a little pink around the edges and ducks her head to make notes. She really is very pretty.

Yunho kicks Changmin for no damn reason, brow a tiny furrow, and Changmin wants to roll his eyes.

“So, Hyung, I really think we should talk about that whole sex thing,” he says very loudly, even as Yunho starts shaking his head no and Huang-ssi starts looking very sorry she mentioned it all those weeks ago.

“No, I’m fine, really, it’s okay, I don’t think we’re having any issues there,” Yunho says very quickly in one disjointed gust. “Honestly we’re fine--”

“I’m starting to think you’re an exhibitionist,” Changmin continues, unperturbed, not even looking at Huang-ssi and instead focusing on the wonderful color blooming across Yunho’s cheeks. “You really need to stop pulling me into broom closets during acapella performances.”

Huang-ssi clears her throat suddenly. “Well we can certainly talk about it if you both want?” she tries, sounding a little faint.

Yunho whirls to face her, flushing a lot now. “No, fine, honestly,” he says again. “Changdol, please.”

And Changmin’s belly does a pretty little flip, mouth suddenly parched. He swallows. It doesn’t help.

“No, that’s all I wanted to say,” he says slowly, filing this away for future knowledge. He takes pity on Yunho. “I think Yunho-hyung was saying he wanted to try his hand at acting?”

Huang-ssi latches onto the topic change gratefully. “Right…”

\--

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were ashamed of me,” Changmin says in the car later, half kidding. They’re on their way back home after _Music Bank_ , and even the white disco suits hadn’t bothered Changmin this time around. It might have helped that he woke up with a blowjob, but he actually thinks it was just that there was finally less pressure, a few weeks into promotion, and fully accepting the fact that they were probably not going to win for this one given who they were up against. (Changmin had checked online at the views on the ‘Gangnam Style’ video and they were almost scary.)

He’s not expecting much from Yunho, who had seemed a little withdrawn through the entire performance and had kept ahead of Changmin all the way into the KBS building, but he was kidding, and that much should have been obvious, if Yunho had turned around in the front seat of the car.

“You know we’re not actually dating, right?” says Yunho, voice deceptively calm.

Seated next to him, Kyungjae-hyung sputters a little but stares pointedly down at his phone.

Driver-nim just seems to sigh.

“Right.” Changmin allows, thinking about how to phrase this without blowing the lid right off their little secret. “But I thought we were going to talk about it with her just to get her off our backs?” He galnces at Kyungjae-hyung. “And because we need to talk about things like that so that we can fix our relationship before the tour and all. For the fans.”

Yunho still doesn’t look at him. “Mmm.” He shrugs.

Changmin snarls, chest feeling tight. “Fine, you’re right,” he snaps. “I just thought we had agreed to be adults for a moment, but forgive me. My mistake, _hyung_.”

Yunho does turn around at the formality, eyes unreadable under the sunglasses.

Changmin almost snatches them off his face.

“Fine,” Yunho says.

“Fine,” Changmin agrees.

“What just happened?’ says Kyungjae-hyung.

“ _Nothing_ ,” they both snap, tones brooking no argument.

Kyungjae-hyung stares at them for a long moment, before sighing down at the phone. “When’s your next appointment?” he says somewhat rhetorically.

“Tuesday,” Yunho growls out. “Make sure you’re back from Japan for that.”

“Of course, _Hyung_ ,” Changmin replies, tone saccharine sweet. “Wouldn’t _dare_ miss it.”

\--

Changmin strokes Yunho’s cheek on broadcast, gets roped into playing with a small child in a ball pit, and has to sit through several hours of one of the more awkward stories about what he’s ninety percent certain might legally qualify for sexual harassment. He and Yunho aren’t quite normal, yet, but Huang-ssi’s talk yesterday had made him feel a little bit bad about snapping, and they’d managed to find humor in their elaborate yoga ruse, at least, but they also haven’t fucked since Changmin stormed out of the car and then flew to Japan to work a little bit on _Time_.

He likes all the MCs on _Hello Counselor_ a lot, though, so the experience isn’t too horrible.

Afterwards Youngja-noona comes up to thank them for coming, bowing low and smiling at them good-naturedly, before Dongyup-hyung comes by and slides an arm around Changmin, teasing him some more about the face-petting.

Changmin feels happy about a broadcast like he hasn’t in awhile.

Yunho pulls him aside when they get home after, waiting patiently for Changmin to finish lining his shoes up next to the wall by the door, before tugging him around the corner and into their kitchen.

“Yunho-hyung,” Changmin says, confused. “Um?”

“You don’t think I’m a bother, do you?” Yunho says quickly, eyes flitting anywhere but Changmin’s. “Like. I don’t. Make you uncomfortable when I touch you--”

Changmin blinks, cheeks warming as he realizes where Yunho’s going with this, and all of a sudden he just wants to kiss the older man.

“Hyung, come here,” he says, somewhat desperately, more than a little lost, and tugs Yunho in close so he can.

Yunho kisses back, barely there presses of his lips and tiny little noises in the back of his throat and Changmin feels as delicate as a preserved flower, made tight around the edges by laminate paper and wax.

He pulls away. “I’ll have you know that there’s no way I’d let you fuck me if I was uncomfortable,” Changmin says, feeling a little out of his depth--this wasn’t supposed to be fluff and feelings it was just supposed to be sex and stress relief--but also feeling strangely certain that he really should talk this out with Yunho. “Or anybody, for that matter. I wouldn’t sleep with anyone if I didn’t like them.”

There’s a pause.

“Somewhat,” Changmin amends, somewhat desperately.

Yunho’s lips twitch. “I suppose I like you somewhat as well,” he allows. “Given I’ve stuck around for as long as I have.”

And that feels a lot like they’re about to talk about _it_ , about the lawsuit, about what they want, about the other three, and Changmin’s hackles rise automatically.

“Anyway it’s not like you don’t let me fuck you equally,” he says, letting go of Yunho’s hands and heading for the sink. As expected, there are dishes there he can wash as a distraction. “So we’re nothing like them anyway. We’re just helping each other out.”

His neck feels warm.

He’s insisting on long hair for the next Korean comeback for sure.

Yunho is quiet behind him for half a plate.

Then he reaches around to grab the dishtowel next to the sink, startling Changmin’s heart into damn overdrive. “You wash I’ll dry,” he decides.

Changmin’s face feels a little funny, but that’s probably because Yunho got soap in his eyes.

\--

The staff are prepared for their shoot on _Star Date_ this time, so it films quickly. There’s no frantic reshuffling of schedules as the studio attempts to cope with the volume of fans. In fact it goes really well, except for the part where the MC moves the conversation to their relationship incredibly quickly.

Yunho waxes poetic about Changmin’s public speaking skills and Changmin focuses on how strong of a leader Yunho has always been for him. They get forced to hug. There’s now a camera record of Changmin thinking he’s handsomer than Yunho. It’s a riot.

Kyungjae-hyung watches them with pursed lips, no doubt displeased with the lack of affection and care Changmin’s mustered for the interview, but he knows their fans, and knows they’ll love it. Besides it really isn’t him and Yunho, as he told the MCs on _Hello Counselor_ anyway.

“Also,” he tells Yunho later that night, sprawled across Yunho’s bed this time naked and still panting. “I feel like we don’t have any middle ground between love and hate anyway.”

“Love and war,” Yunho corrupts, muffling a yawn. “Changmin.”

Changmin ignores him and keeps speaking. He’s not quite cuddling so much as using Yunho’s arm as a buffer between the wet spot and the bed. “Kyungjae-hyung really doesn’t want us to make out on stage,” he explains. “So he should be happy that I didn’t tell you I love you on camera.”

There’s a pause.

Yunho seems to stop breathing

Changmin’s heart skips a bit. _Fuck_.

Then Yunho lets out a long gust of air. “Right.” He sounds perfectly composed. “Rock Paper Scissors?”

Changmin scowls, annoyed. “Hyung you always lose,” he says. “I’m starting to think it’s on fucking purpose.”

They’ve been doing this a lot now, playing to see who has to stay in the used room and who gets to go sleep on clean sheets in the other room. The first few times were nice, until Yunho got fussy that he kept losing, and then they switched it around so loser got the clean sheets and winner ended up suffering alone.

Yunho is silent for a long moment. “I mean we could just share?” he starts to say and Changmin throws his fist between them instantly.

“If you play scissors again I will hurt you,” he says.

Yunho rolls his eyes.

\--

“You should definitely spend the day together,” says Huang-ssi, voice very serious. “I don’t know why Kyungjae-ssi didn’t tell you to.”

Changmin blinks. “Um.”

“Military service is a very serious thing,” Huang-ssi continues. “And having someone you’re close to go brings it to the front of the conversation.”

Changmin wonders if he should mention that Heechul-hyung and Kangin-hyung have both already gone, one into active service and one not.

“You should take today to talk about it with each other first,” says Huang-ssi.

Changmin blinks.

Yunho blinks.

“Okay?” Changmin manages.

“Sure?” says Yunho.

Huang-ssi smiles at them and ushers them back out the door.

For a while, the both of them just stand outside the door, unsure. Finally, Changmin turns to Yunho. “You want to go get food?” he starts, at the same time Yunho says, very seriously, “Don’t do something stupid like enlisting at the same time as me.”

Changmin’s jaw snaps shut. “What?” Maybe he heard wrong. Maybe Yunho isn’t being an over controlling idiot. They’ve had a good few days. _Sukira_ with Ryeowook and Sungmin-hyung was a blast. Donghee-hyung was such a dick to Changmin but in good humor, and no one seemed bothered that Changmin’s leg had a minor breakdown under the table when Ryeowook asked if they’d slept together.

And then today, outside their therapist’s impromptu office, Yunho takes a knife to that balance without batting an eye.

“I hope you’re not thinking you can tell me what to do,” says Changmin, finally, after a few minutes of staring contest.

Yunho meets him word for word. “It’d be better for us to go one after another,” he says, seemingly unbothered by Changmin’s glare. “You’re so young, Changdol.”

Changmin’s lips pull back on a snarl. “You’re a dick, Jung Yunho,” he informs Yunho, before turning on his heel and striding off.

Yunho grabs him by the wrist before he can get further.

Changmin grunts, trying to get free, and Yunho just uses his weight to his advantage, pushing forward until he’s got Changmin pinned back to the wall.

They’re not hidden in the slightest, midway between the practice rooms and the office buildings, and literally anyone could wander by.

Changmin really doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho says tensely, meeting Changmin’s eyes somehow. “I. I forget, sometimes.”

Changmin’s mouth opens.

Then shuts.

His teeth click together. “About?’

“That you’re not the baby anymore,” Yunho continues, still not looking away. “That’s you’re a man now.”

Changmin feels a little warm, suddenly. The fact that he’s pinned against the wall really isn’t helping. “The abs don’t help?” he tries, a little helplessly.

Yunho actually laughs, finally stepping away from him. Then he sobers. “I really am sorry, Changmin,” he says.

Changmin sighs. “Idiot,” he says fondly.

“Food?” says Yunho.

“Sure,” says Changmin. “Lead the way.” He follows after Yunho with half a step between them, and only thinks about enlistment a little bit. They’ll stop by the Suju dorm later for conciliatory drinks, and then probably get trapped there under a puppy pile when the idiots decide they need Yunho as stand-in leader, even though Hyukjae-hyung is fully capable, and already casually stepping into that role.

But for now, food.

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all next week with even more filth HAHAHAHA save me.
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/159535068270/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	6. november 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's theme: that time I had a small breakdown when I realized I knew nothing about EXO and was still throwing them into the story like 'do not. @ me.'
> 
> Betaed by Scar. She the real MVP.
> 
> YUNHO IS BACK HAPPY YUNHO IS BACK DAY EVERYONE.

**six.** _november 2012_

\--

“They want us to come in for new in-ear fittings,” Yunho says, over breakfast before they’re scheduled to go to _Music Bank_.

Changmin sighs. He’d been expecting this, since they like to do this before every tour, even though they’re constantly wearing in-ears for every single performance. They’ve already had their in-ears looked at when they started doing music programs, but SM likes to be sure before tours, so they get put through the ear drops and then model making session every few months. He’s not sure when they’re going to do it this time, though, between rehearsals, live performances, and the latest string of SM Towns that they’re scheduled for out of country.

Not to mention Changmin himself is due back in Japan for some _Fly With Gold_ press later this afternoon.

Yunho shovels some rice into his mouth but keeps talking anyway; Changmin wonders what it says about him that he’s been sleeping with him for an entire month.

“I think they’ll make you do it on the plane.” Yunho swallows, throat bobbing. “And I’ll do it tonight.”

Changmin nods, considering, before reaching out with his own chopsticks. “Okay.” He sighs. He hates the ear drops. He hates sitting still with his neck at that angle, but he doesn’t move much on planes anyway, as Yeonhee had so kindly parodied on _Strong Heart_ last year.

“They’ll probably do some last minute costume fittings too,” says Yunho. He finishes with his rice, hiding a yawn behind his hand with sudden politeness. He’s got on an oversized white turtleneck sweater, hair unstyled and falling flat, which only further emphasizes how cuddly he is this early in the morning, still half awake and a little orgasm loopy from the shower they shared this morning.

Changmin grins to himself a little, thinking of the unimpressed look Donghee-hyung had shot the two of them when they said they didn’t fart or shower with one another.

Yunho hides another yawn, head falling back. His hair drops back out of his eyes when he does that and Changmin’s throat goes dry.

The stylist-noonas should be arriving in the car soon, ready to primp the two of them for the walk of shame into KBS, but Changmin almost wishes they wouldn’t. Hair up, back out, as Yunho put it the night before, before they played to see who’d get the bed.

Changmin had lost finally, forced to stay in Yunho’s bed and wake up sticking to the sheets, but he’d almost found it nice. Which was way too girly for his own liking, so he’d snuck out for clean sheets like a coward, heart racing, eyes darting around the empty apartment, and praying that Yunho wouldn’t even notice the next day.

Yunho smiles at him suddenly, breaking Changmin out of his early morning embarrassment, and Changmin has a sudden urge to kiss him.

He shoves an entire mouthful of rice dry into his mouth.

\--

The costumes for _Music Bank_ really are open-backed again. It’s clear that’s their theme, since nothing screams pained men shouting about girls they love like open-backed full body suits, glowing arm bands, and sequins. At least they’re simple this time around; instead of rainbow twist arms and embroidery detail, their stylists have gone for a simple white fabric and black shoes.

Changmin yawns a little as he’s shoved into it, glad for once the pre-recording is the day of, and doesn’t feature a costume change. He’s not sure he could take the pressure of matching dance moves to himself, or having to do ‘Catch Me’ more than the usual five or so times.

The dance only seems to get harder as they go, probably because Yunho is a perfectionist, mostly because they’ve started tour rehearsal in earnest now so Changmin’s brain is just a mess of jumbled choreography.

Yunho takes longer through hair and makeup always, since he’s never managed to kick the habit of sleeping in foundation, and has a few blemishes that need touching up. Changmin watches them cover the mole above his lip as well, feeling oddly nostalgic.

“Oh,” exclaims one of their stylists suddenly. “Yunho-oppa.” She dabs with her brush alongside Yunho’s jugular, and Changmin has a horrible sinking feeling.

Yunho seems to still be half asleep, but he figures out what Changmin’s thinking around the same time, meeting Changmin’s eyes across the room and looking frantic for a quick second.

“I cut myself shaving,” he lies, like every man in the business ever, and turns a winning, charming smile on their stylist.

They all titter, always bemused by Yunho’s antics, and call him cute.

Yunho pouts, aegyo only slightly exaggerated, and Changmin has a sudden urge to wander over and shout me too me too me too.

He does, arms crossed over his chest and bottom lip stuck out a little, and Yunho goes slack, cheeks flushing suddenly, as their entire staff coos over Changmin.

Changmin makes a note of this, because even though he hates aegyo, if it’s something he can do, something he should do, as the younger, then maybe he should start watching videos. He can always get Sungmin-hyung to send him videos. Or bribe Kyuhyun to get _him_ to ask Sungmin-hyung for videos.

Or maybe Minho. Minho could be bossed around to get someone younger and more practiced in the art of cute to help him. In secret. Without anyone knowing. Only to make things easier on Yunho, not just because of the way Yunho still hasn’t quite focused back on the conversation.

“Hey,” he says finally, “That’s my thing.”

Changmin takes it all back; Yunho’s way better at aegyo. Too bad he has to be leader-ssi all the time. Too bad he’s still a little self-conscious about that.

“I don’t see your name on it,” says Changmin.

Yunho glowers at him. “I talked about it a lot on variety shows,” he argues. “You were there.”

Changmin maintains his straight face. “People lie on variety shows all the time, Hyung,” he says.

Yunho narrows his eyes. “You know I wasn’t lying,” he says.

Changmin is starting to feel like they’re maybe having one of those weird half arguments where they both start off joking and poking fun and halfway through they actually start snapping at each other. Usually this ends with someone shouting actual hurtful words and Kyungjae-hyung or whoever stuck on the most awkward clean up ever, but lately it’s been ending with someone pinning someone against the nearest flat surface and having their way with them. Changmin’s not picky on who gets pinned, since both are good, but Yunho always gets so shuddery when he’s the one trapped, muscles flexing against Changmin’s growing strength, and voice thin and high and breathy like it gets after a long day’s rehearsal.

Yunho is staring at him with a rather knowing look, lips still half twisted in a pout.

Changmin very pointedly does not glance down to see if his dick has kept its cool during that tiny daydream.

Their stylists have deemed Yunho dressed, brushing the baking powder away from his skin with firm and even strokes of a fluffy brush.

Changmin should probably become less invested in makeup, given he’s started going to the gym a lot with Siwon-hyung and anyone else who will tag along, but Changmin is also an idol, and not all idols cans be Jung Yunho, too pretty and innocent looking to get more than a scolding for sleeping in foundation.

Half the time the man only does a double cleanse because Changmin refuses to let him go to bed without it.

Although lately he’s been doing it simply because it means they get stuck together for longer periods of time, and given that Changmin likes to do his face after a tiny shower to get the sweat out of hard-to-reach crevices, and Yunho likes to tag along to stick his tongue in all those crevices and more, his skin isn’t that bad.

Ignoring the hickey stylist-noona just covered up.

Yunho gets to his feet with an overexaggerated groan, rolling his torso around and stretching with his arms.

Changmin feels any and all good feelings towards the man sour instantly. He was incredibly drunk that one time he’d ended up mumbling nonsense about Yunho’s back, and then he was being fucked within an inch of his life face to face with that very back (bless mirrors), and all in all it is unfair that Yunho has yet to give away any kinks beyond a vague fondness for Changmin’s ear lobes and tendency towards talking in third person.

Changmin’s out here waxing poetic about Yunho’s damn shoulder blade muscles and everything in between; he deserves to know what part of his body makes Yunho want to mount him like a caveman.

Or maybe he doesn’t; maybe that’s too much like being in an actual relationship, instead of whatever friends with benefits situation they’ve currently got going on.

Changmin should ask Huang-ssi. She’d know.

Speaking of:

“When’s our next session?” he asks Yunho, not that he doesn’t know it’s usually on Tuesdays, but more because he’s not sure how the schedule will be working since Yunho will be in Japan soon for the musical he does every year wearing fancy waist coats and singing fancy songs.

Yunho hides a yawn behind his hand and bows to the throngs of idols and staff they pass in the hall, slowing their stride a little so that their managers can catch up with them as they head for the filming stage. “Tuesdays,” he says.

Changmin smacks him on the shoulder, too quick and gentle for anyone to notice, but Kyungjae-hyung clears his throat anyway.

Changmin glares at him. “You’re the one who wanted us to be closer,” he says.

Kyungjae-hyung looks longsuffering. “Within reason,” he says.

Changmin remembers that Kyungjae-hyung was the one who nearly walked in on them yesterday, and has since then adopted a policy of ‘I really don’t need to know what you two get up to in your spare time but please do not do anything that will jeopardize the band and also I know the moment I try to confront you about this you’re going to give me hell since I signed you up for therapy in the first place, Changmin, please stop staring at me like that’.

“Next Tuesday,” says Yunho, somehow managing to look both amused and oblivious to the nonverbal communication happening to his side. “After Inkigayo.”

Changmin files that away for safekeeping. “Won’t you be doing Gwanghwamun Sonata for one of the days?” he tries to say, but Kyungjae-hyung interrupts them, coughing loudly in time for them to pass Psy-sunbaenim, who Changmin bows to automatically.

Yunho follows suit, looking like he wants to actually try to talk to the man, and Changmin lengthens his stride before he can, trying not to take too much pleasure in how quickly Yunho follows after him.

Kyungjae-hyung shakes his head. “The two of you are not subtle,” he says.

Changmin looks back at him over his shoulder. He hadn’t thought it was time to get ready to give Kyungjae-hyung hell for the therapy but he is nothing if not an opportunist.

Kyungjae-hyung meets his eyes, practically daring him.

Changmin faces forward again.

 _Catch Me_ doesn’t win again, but the crowd still goes crazy.

\--

“You know I doubt you’re going to win anyway, Chwang,” says Kyuhyun, and Changmin has about three seconds of pure confusion as to why he’s being called at three in the morning before he remembers the time difference.

“Cho Kyuhyun,” he grits out, voice all raspy from disuse. “I was sleeping.”

Kyuhyun continues unbothered. “Psy-sunbaenim’s song is just too good,” he’s saying, and Changmin can pick out the sound of the Suju hyungs in the background, gathered together for something. Probably getting ready to fly back from Chile.

Changmin squints over at his clock. “It is three a.m..”

Kyuhyun doesn’t let that phase him. “I did see that people are making memes about it, though,” he says. “Like putting people’s heads on him and Hongchul-hyung.” He pauses. “Yunho-hyung does the hip-thrusting well, though, right? You could win if you did the hip-thrusting your next video. Like ‘Before You Go’ but better. Like. Maybe on each other?”

“I don’t know who this is--are you a stalker?” says Changmin, going to hang up. “How did you get this number?”

Kyuhyun doesn’t even pause. “You really should grind on each other anyway like it’s unfair that the only video you’ve had that got banned was ‘Mirotic’ and that was from before.” He pauses, voice going all hushed and whispery. “The split.”

Changmin pulls his phone away from his ear and stares at it blankly. Maybe he’s still dreaming. This certainly feels like a dream.

“You said your name was Kuixian?” says Changmin, too tired not to butcher the Chinese. “Are you Chinese? Why are you speaking Korean?”

That seems to give Kyuhyun pause. “Yah,” he says.

Changmin sinks back against his bed with a long groan. “Kyu they made me clean my ears out the entire plane ride,” he complains. “It was awful. My head still feels funny.”

Kyuhyun snorts. “Baby,” he says. “Also wasn’t that nice for when you got off the plane? Or has Japan stopped deafening you if you so much as fart at them.”

Changmin’s eyes slit open blearily. “Tell Ryeongu that he’s a dick for that. Wait. No. Tell Donghee-hyung he’s a dick for that.”

Kyuhyun repeats this without pausing and the background noises increases twofold. Or twelvefold, Changmin supposed. Or eightfold?

“How many of you are there again?” Changmin asks, yawning. “Like there’s tall you, and horse you, and handsome you and--”

“If you say that’s all the same person I will end you,” says Kyuhyun in a tone that suggests he might tell said tall, horse-like, handsome Siwon-hyung that Yunho and Changmin are in real life couple’s therapy to deal with the fact that they’re a real life couple instead of for whatever reason Hyukjae-hyung and Donghae-hyung had probably half-assed.

Siwon-hyung is unfairly decent and cares about his friends.

Siwon-hyung also really loves the Bible.

Changmin decides he needs to hang up on Kyuhyun.

“I don’t speak Chinese,” he decides finally, and does so.

Several minutes later it’s clear he’s not going to be able to go back to sleep, even though he’s got an early flight and Inkigayo recording and then tour rehearsal after tour rehearsal after tour rehearsal to look forward to the moment he sets foot back on Korean soil.

He sighs.

Yunho’s probably awake.

“Changmin!” says Yunho brightly after two rings. He sounds out of breath, far too happy for three AM, and Changmin’s brain to mouth filter takes a small vacation and promptly ends up fired.

“Are you having sex?” says Changmin’s filterless traitor mouth.

There’s a slightly too long pause.

“I’m just going to put you off speaker now,” Yunho says finally, and Changmin stares up at his ceiling wishing for death.

Or their ceiling. Yunho’s. Yunho’s ceiling.

He’s in Yunho’s damn bed fuck what the hell how tired _was_ he.

“And no I’m rehearsing,” Yunho continues, voice a little hushed now. “Only now Hyoje is never going to let me live this down.” He raises his voice. “None of them are going to let me live this down. Every time we have to rehearse on our own they’re going to _tease me about this._ ”

Changmin thinks about that. “Put me back on speaker.”

“Changdol, you don’t have to--”

“Put me back on speaker I can’t sleep and Kyuhyun just called me to tell me he thinks our next music video should feature the two of us _grinding on each other_ \--”

Yunho has hung up on him how dare he.

Changmin spends a few minutes furiously glowering at his own lock screen before calling Yunho right the fuck back.

Yunho doesn’t even let it ring through.

How dare he.

Several moments later and Changmin is in the middle of a truly acidic and award-winning three AM rant that features dirt he’s collected on Yunho from as far back as 2004 and is only slightly nonsensical when Yunho finally calls _him_ , and the entire thing is lost to memory.

Changmin thinks that’s okay, worries a little that it’ll go through anyway and Yunho will end up listening to it after they’ve hung up having buried the metaphorical hatchet.

“Hyung?”

“I realize I never asked why you were calling me,” Yunho says, and apparently they’re just ignoring that whole fiasco.

Changmin can work with that. “Why are you rehearsing alone at three a.m.?” he says. And then, “also why do you sound like you’re having sex when you’re just rehearsing do you get off on dancing--”

Yunho hangs up on him again.

He calls him back moments later, voice extra hushed now, and there’s less background noise and an echo.

“Are you in the bathroom?” says Changmin at the same time Yunho says, “Changdol are you trying to have phone sex with me?” in a very quiet very worried sounding voice.

Changmin feels his entire face go very abruptly scarlet. “No!” he shrieks.

“Don’t hang up,” says Yunho quickly. And then, “oh okay.” There’s a pause. “Are you sure because you kept talking about grinding--”

“ _We are not grinding in our next music video_!” shouts Changmin. “ _Ever!_ ” He’s still blushing. “ _We are going to have_ girls _in the next video. Lots and lots of girls. Only girls. We could even_ become _girls_ \--”

“Changmin are you sick?” interrupts Yunho, and Changmin is grateful.

“They put ear drops in my ears today,” he whines out. “I’m a mess.”

Yunho is silent for a long moment.

Changmin is worried for that long moment.

Then, faintly, he hears what he thinks are giggles.

The giggles only get louder, merging to full out laughter, and finally Yunho is roaring with amusement, probably standing in the middle of an SM hallway looking like an utter idiot, while Changmin wastes away in his bed in their Japanese apartment slowly blushing his way to death and destruction.

“Yah don’t do that--don’t laugh at me-- _PUT ME ON SPEAKER SO I CAN DESTROY_ YOU--” roars Changmin but Yunho just keeps laughing.

There’s the sound of someone coming out to check on him, and Yunho manages to say he’ll be back in a minute he just wants to run over some choreography with Changmin, before whoever it is leaves with a quiet door slam.

Changmin is feeling no less embarrassed, but slightly more composed.

He kicks his feet angrily in Yunho’s sheets, twisting around until the duvet gives up and lands on the floor. He’s not even going to pick it up when he leaves in a few hours, just going to leave it in a mess on the floor in hopes that it rots away into nothingness so that the next time they two of them have to go to Japan Yunho can freeze to death like the horrible human he is.

“You sound sleep deprived, Changmin-ah,” Yunho is saying when Changmin finishes feeling smug about that thought. “You sure you can do Inkigayo tomorrow.”

“Hyung,” says Changmin, voice only slightly sharp. “I’m not a child.”

“No, I know,” says Yunho, suddenly very deadpan and dry. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable fucking a child.”

There’s a beat.

Changmin goes back to bursting into flames. “You’re the worst,” he says.

“Bite me,” says Yunho.

“I will,” insists Changmin. “Right where everyone can see it so Stylist-noona finally gets mad at you.”

Yunho sounds bemused. “Okay, Changdol,” he says. “You should sleep now.”

Changmin is totally going to sleep now but only because he’s tired, not because Yunho told him. “Mm,” he says. “Goodnight.”

He thinks he hears Yunho wish him goodnight as well, but he’s too far gone to know for sure.

\--

“I want you to make a list,” says Huang-ssi at the end of their session. “Both of you, without talking to each other, about the things that you love about the other. Things that make you think, ‘ah, I love this man.’”

Changmin makes a pained noise high in the back of his throat.

“Love?” squeaks Yunho.

“Man?” agrees Changmin.

“We’ll share them next week,” says Huang-ssi. “You’re about to be working together closely for a work project Kyungjae-hyung was saying. So I think it would be good if you worked on thinking about the things you like about each other instead of just focusing on the bad.”

She shoots Changmin a somewhat knowing look, and Changmin has the decency to look guilty.

In his defense, he actually thinks airing their dirty laundry has helped their relationship. The sex probably hasn’t, but the sex feels really, really good, so Changmin figures you win some and you lose some. And who’s _really_ losing, in that case, since Yunho is surprisingly good at blowjobs for being a huge workaholic and celibate dick.

“They don’t have to be long lists,” Huang-sii continues, without a care for the sudden tension in the room. “Let’s start with five things.”

“Five things,” squeaks Yunho.

“Start?” agrees Changmin.

“I’m glad you’re on board,” says Huang-ssi.

\--

“Um,” says Junmyeon. “I don’t--”

“Just pat me on the back,” says Changmin, not releasing him and snuggling closer. Junmyeon’s hair smells very nice. He should find out from someone what kind of shampoo they’re buying for them. Changmin could use a scent change. Maybe strawberry.

Junmyeon pauses, unsure, before patting Changmin on the back once. “Um, Hyung?”

“ _Why is Changmin-sunbaenim hugging Junmyeon_?” hisses Minseok from somewhere to their left.

“You know you can call him Changmin-hyung, yeah?” replies Baekhyun, sounding bemused.

“ _You’re not answering my question_ \--”

“Again,” interrupts Changmin, when Junmyeon seems to have stopped. “Don’t stop until I let go.”

“Um,” Junmyeon says again.

\--

Kyuhyun actually doesn’t laugh hysterically this time around, but that’s okay, because Minho more than makes up for it, giggling into his hand trying not to draw too much attention to the lot of them as they stand in a corner of the cafeteria trying not to disturb the various staff and idols currently in the middle of eating.

Changmin is fine, however, since he thought this through. “Feel free to laugh,” he tells Kyuhyun. “You can’t touch me. I have feasted on the affection of my dongsaengs and nothing you say will ever affect me again.”

Minho stops laughing long enough stare at him. “Is Changmin-hyung okay?” he asks Kyuhyun.

Kyuhyun leans towards him conspiratorially. “He and Yunho-hyung have been fucking since _Running Man_ ,” he explains, and Changmin starts sliding down his tower of unaffectedness with far too much speed. “I guess this is a side-effect. Yunho-hyung must be some kind of sex god.”

“I’ll have you know we take turns,” snaps Changmin, face hot. “So I am just as much of a sex god--”

“Changmin-ah!” It’s Heechul-hyung, on a quick leave stopover at SM for album related things, because of course it is. “Who’s saying Changminnie is a sex god?”

Someone makes a gasping noise from behind Heechul-hyung and Changmin decides the world is against him, because that person sounds remarkably like Yunho.

As if to add insult to injury, Heechul-hyung grins at Changmin. “Yurobbong was saying the two of you had to write love letters.”

“I didn’t say love letters,” protests Yunho, even as Minho starts snickering again.

Changmin hates all of them.

Heechul-hyung doesn’t seem bothered. “We’ve already finished his anyway,” he tells Changmin. “Although he was very clear that we weren’t going to mention sex at all.” He gives Changmin a shifty look, almost seeming impressed. “Your first bullet is the sex god thing?” He whistles. “How good _are_ you--?”

“Can we not talk about this,” says Yunho.

“I haven’t written _any_ of the list--please ignore them,” says Changmin.

“Changmin-hyung has to write a _love letter_ ,” says Minho.

“I’m going to get rich off a drama based on your life,” decides Kyuhyun.

They all stop to stare at him.

“What?” Kyuhyun glances between them. “Think about it you’re like a walking show anyway.”

They all stare at him.

“No, I see it,” says Heechul-hyung. “What was it you said to him when you first met, Yunho-yah--Changmin?”

“If you’re not serious you might as well quit now,” says Changmin without breathing.

“--and what was it you thought when you first saw Changminnie--Yunho-yah?”

“What--”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant--”

“ _Yunho-yah_.”

“I thought he was cute,” Yunho admits finally. “But you all saw him he had huge ears and was all fluffy and frighty and got in too fast and I just. Was an idiot.” He looks at Changmin suddenly with kind eyes.

Changmin glance between that and his mouth a few times. “Yeah, I’m done eating,” he decides, walking off before anyone older can grab for him. “See you around Kyuline you’re all losers.”

They both squawk after him, Heechul-hyung says something knowing and dickish, but Changmin’s already halfway across the room and not looking at anyone at all.

\--

“You know this list thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a slave driver,” says Changmin, spread eagle on his back in the middle of the practice room gasping for breath and wondering if his legs are ever going to stop shaking. “We’re not even performing in this room.” He rolls his head back against the ground a few times.

Yunho doesn’t comment, just steps around him so that he can back to the sound system.

They’re practicing the older stuff--‘Purple Line,’ ‘O,’ ‘Mirotic,’ etc.--because as Yunho and half their tour staff nodding the background had put it: they don’t get time to practice that a lot. It’s making Changmin wish they’d just go back to running ‘Keep Your Head Down,’ ‘Before You Go,’ and ‘Catch Me’ on a terrible, muscle ache inducing loop. Because that might be nicer than having to run the choreography to ‘Purple Line’ straight into ‘O’ straight into ‘Mirotic.’

“Hyung.” Changmin rolls his head to one side. “Hyung.”

Yunho sighs, and while doesn’t turn off ‘Purple Line,’ he doesn’t call Changmin to his feet.

It’s weird, hearing the song with just their voices pushed out into the foreground. Changmin wonders if they’re ever going to record just the two of them, like proper record the two of them, instead of using this for backing tracks and rehearsals. Probably it’ll be the tour recording, now that he thinks about it.

“Hyung are we recording the show?”

Yunho seems to take this is interest in their tour. “Yep. Now get up.”

Changmin groans, flinging hand across his face. “I hate you.”

Yunho doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

Changmin starts to worry. He opens one eye. “Hyung--”

Yunho sits on him, right in the middle of his pelvis, not quite on his dick--thank everything for that--and not quite on his stomach, but it’s enough to shove all the breath up out of Changmin in one pained gasp.

“Yunho- _hyung_ ,” Changmin groans out, blinking blearily and slapping both hands down on the older man’s hips. “What.”

Yunho tucks his legs in close to Changmin’s sides and grins, head at an angle, eyes mischievous slits.

Changmin thinks: oh no, this isn’t that kind of detour after all, before Yunho’s tickling him.

He has no leverage like this, wind knocked out of him, legs too spread, and both hands too easily captured as Yunho dances one hand down his side in quick, devious movements.

“Are you ready to practice now?” he says.

“I’m going to _\--_ ha--to-- _ha_ \--k-ILL YOU!” shrieks Changmin.

“I don’t understand you, Changmin, what was that?” Yunho says.

Changmin is going to going to die, and then come back as a ghost, and then haunt Yunho for the end of time. “Can’t,” he tries to say, feeling like he can’t breathe, and twists under Yunho’s hands. They go skidding along the floor, rucking up Changmin’s oversized singlet and making his back burn.

Yunho hums. “Changmin you’re hurting yourself,” he says, letting go of Changmin’s hands so that he can pet the skin of his lower back. He goes lower with a wicked grin, hand groping down to cup Changmin’s ass, and finally stops tickling when Changmin starts punching at him.

Changmin’s still dying, so he can’t say anything, so he settles for hitting at whatever parts of Yunho he can reach--his stupid back, mostly, as Yunho has leaned all the way down to chase his lips, only Changmin can’t breathe, so kissing is out of the question--what is Yunho doing with his other hand--where is it going--no please Changmin can’t breathe not the abs--oh oh _oh_ \--

His thoughts scatter, eyes rolling back, and for once he’s grateful that Yunho makes them practice for hours and no one else is around to hear the noise he makes when he rolls them.

Yunho goes willingly enough, mouth opening to no doubt complain about the rough treatment, and Changmin kisses him blindly without pause, eyes falling shut, hands fisted in his sweatshirt, and hips rolling into Yunho’s.

There’s nothing romantic about it, humping each other on the cold practice room floor, but Changmin’s been wired since they started practice, since before Yunho sent their dancers home and told Kyungjae-hyung that he could go off and do whatever and they’d holler when they needed the car home.  

He’s also still angry about the tickling, most of all that Yunho had remembered how much he hates it, so his teeth are sharp and his hands are rough when he goes for Yunho’s dick and neck.

“Changdol,” Yunho gasps out, mouth free, and hisses when Changmin bites. “Changdol-- _marks_ \--”

Another bite, and a hiss, and then Changmin’s tongue, soothing and warm against the salt-sweet skin of Yunho’s pulse.

“I’m not an idiot,” Changmin says, fingers fumbling around Yunho’s dick, too dry, too fast, but unable to stop. “Are you okay--”

“ _Fine_ ,” Yunho grits, head thrown back. “Fine. Fine. Changmin-- _Please_ \--”

Changmin kisses him to shut him up, heart racing, ears ringing, cheeks hot, and cock rock hard in his shorts. This is _unfair_.

“Love your hand,” Yunho mumbles finally, after what feels like hours but has probably only been moments, been strokes. “Love it. Love it _loads_.”

Changmin thinks about loads, about shooting _his_ load, and then wants to pound his head against the conveniently placed floor what the _hell_. His cock, by contrast, would really like to pound Yunho. Luckily, Changmin has lube, because it may have only been a month of their little arrangement, but he very quickly realized that lube was a necessity, given their schedule, Changmin’s libido, and Yunho’s propensity towards exhibition.

“Love your brain,” Yunho continues, when Changmin goes fumbling off for where he left his bag, heart pounding.

His shorts are half off, his dick is painful, and when he looks over his shoulder his knees buckle.

Yunho is unabashed, eyes half-lidded, one hand right where Changmin left is up by his head, the other slowly making a line down his chest, smoothing through the fabric of his sweatshirt in a way that should _not_ be teasing but really fucking is.

Changmin can’t decide if this is worse than getting tickled.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he tells Yunho, because his ears feel warm and his face feels flushed and he’s pretty sure his fingers keep shaking when he gets the bottle of lube out from the hidden depths of his bag. He’s taken to putting it inside like three different toiletry kits after _Strong Heart_ , because ‘I like to drink and that’s why I carry needle and thread,’ was cute and sweet, but Changmin thinks ‘Hyung and I are fucking and that’s why I carry lube,’ would probably _not_ fly over so well with the general public.  It’d probably get them fired.

“Love that too,” says Yunho, rolling to his side with unfair grace. He gets on his knees, reaching up for Changmin, and grabs him by the hips. “Here.”

“I really fucking _hate_ you,” Changmin agrees, even as he kisses Yunho back. “So fucking-- _oh_.”

Yunho gets the lube open without pause slathering way too much over his entire hand, slicking Changmin up just to be a tease probably, before reaching back behind himself.

“Where did your pants go?” says Changmin, a little lightheaded.

Yunho laughs, only a little broken, and then sighs. “Changmin,” he says.

Changmin gives himself a mental shake. “Right, yes,” he says, and then plants his knees, not really sure what Yunho’s asking. “Are you---” He breaks off, a moan bubbling up in his throat when Yunho sinks down. “Oh, you are, um--well--” His hips snap up without his permission and Yunho _hisses_. “I’m so sorry,” Changmin gets out, feeling lightheaded at all the sensations. “I’m so sorry--wait, okay, this is probably the--the _worst_ time, but, uh, I--”

Yunho clenches down on purpose and grabs Changmin by the cheeks. “Changdol stop acting like a virgin,” he says, which is really unfair given what Changmin’s trying to ask.

“Are you clean?” he gets out in one breath. “I mean this is. This is the worst time to be asking and I am, like, I can show you the results--”

“Changdol, we live together,” Yunho grits out, stilling Changmin’s lap and looking half bemused and half annoyed. “We. We go to the same fucking _doctor_.” His hips twist, sinful and skilled and mind blowing. “I-- _ngh_ \--I hacked your medical records _ages_ ago.”

Changmin snaps his hips up twice in succession in revenge. “You _what_?”

Yunho’s mouth falls open, panting, and his eyes shut.

Changmin takes a moment to just savor everything--the pink of his cheeks, the flush of his chest, the jiggle of his chest, the…his entire chest all of his chest _just_ his chest, before coming back to himself.

He smacks at said chest, half gentle. “Yah Jung Yunho.”

Yunho’s eyes fly open, very wide, very blown, and very very aroused. “Okay I just asked Kyungjae-hyung if you had a clean bill of health because of the tour,” he says in one great go. “But my point is what the _hell_ , Changmin.” He whimpers.

Changmin cants his hips in the opposite direction just cause.

“You live with me. You know I haven’t been sleeping with anyone else.”

“What?” says Changmin, suddenly feeling very out of his depth. “That doesn’t sound very friends with benefits like--”

“Not on purpose-- _Changmin_ ,” Yunho growls, slamming a hand down on the ground and then, after a moment, shoving Changmin back down onto the floor.

Changmin moans, unabashed, and stares up at him, eyes very wide.

Yunho looks marvelous like this, backlit by the overhead lighting, hair mussed, lips red, eyes wild, and Changmin figures it’ll be worth it when he gets a telling to tomorrow for the state of his back if he gets to experience this.

“We are incredibly, incredibly, _busy_ ,” says Yunho, punctuating each word with a slow bob up and down on Changmin’s cock. “When the _fuck_ \--” He seems to have found his prostrate, keens a little, and just stays all the way down for several mind-numbing moments. “Would I be able to fuck anyone else?”

“Oh yeah,” says Changmin. “I mean of course.” He puts his hands on Yunho’s hips and holds. “What was I even thinking, _Hyung_ , you’re completely fucking _right_.”

They can just tell Kyungjae-hyung they were practicing the high notes in _Catch Me_ , Changmin decides, watching Yunho’s eyes roll back in his head as he howls out an orgasm, entire body tight, as Changmin plants his feet and fucks up, up, and up.

That’ll work.

Probably.

\--

“Yeah so, about the list,” says Changmin, what feels like hours later, still lying spread eagle on the floor, still exhausted, but considerably more naked and boneless than before.

Yunho’s alive, because he makes a noise in response, but he doesn’t move, or open his eyes, or try to speak.

Changmin pats him on the cheek. “Yah.”

Yunho opens an eye. “What list?” he manages, voice slurred and accent ridden.

Changmin feels something warm settle low into his belly. “The ‘I love you’ list,” he says. “You’re not really going to put those things on it, are you?”

There’s a beat.

Changmin watches Yunho try to remember, get stuck on remembering, and then, beautifully, blush even more. “Oh,” he says. “Um.”

Halfway through the second round Yunho had returned to mouthing praise, this time mostly about Changmin’s mouth and Changmin’s dick and Changmin’s hips and all sorts of stuff that at the time was flattering but in hindsight probably would get them kicked out of Huang-ssi’s office and sued for sexual harassment.

Or worse it wouldn’t, but then the three of them would have to live with that knowledge until the end came, which would be soon, probably, given Huang-ssi would tell Kyungjae-hyung who would blow a gasket and put in his two weeks notice by murdering the two of them in a fit of rage.

Changmin purses his lips. “Yeah,” he says.

Yunho I quiet for a long moment. “I. I mean I do.”

“Hyung it’s fine,” says Changmin, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Just say something about how you like my good looks and stuff. Or how I clean up after you. That sort of stuff. Huang-ssi will lap that up.”

“Changmin-ah,” says Yunho, tone odd.

Changmin ignores him. “Anyway, I’m not tired anymore. Do you wanna do ‘Purple Line’ one more time?’

For a moment he thinks Yunho isn’t going to let him get with it, but then the older man sighs, and gets to his feet, wincing only slightly and the mess they’ve made of his clothes.

He turns on the music.

\--

Changmin wings it. He hasn’t compiled a list, like Yunho has apparently given the piece of paper he’s gone and pulled out. He hasn’t gone out with friends to brainstorm. He hasn’t even thought about it in passing, only, now that Yunho has a list, an actual written down list, and it says shit like: ‘when he complains about looking after me but does it anyway’ and  'his eyes' and ‘also when he wakes up in the morning’ which are fine, since Changmin was planning on throwing that sort of stuff in too to throw Huang-ssi off the scent, but also stuff like: ‘when we have make important life changing decisions and he pulls his weight and then some’ and ‘when I look to my left and he’s there silently by my side.’

It’s awful; Changmin blushes, and shuffles awkwardly around in his chair, eyes on anything but Yunho.

Huang-ssi doesn’t clap when Yunho finishes, but Changmin gets the sense that she wants to. He gets it. Yunho’s gone above and beyond. Certainly more so than Changmin.

“Changmin-ssi?”

Changmin swallows. “I, uh,” he says. And then, with only a little bit of panic, wings it.

It’s not hard, once he starts, to be funny and self deprecating and also just sweet enough to make Huang-ssi blush a little.

“When he squeezes toothpaste out the wrong way I love him a lot,” gets him a tiny smile from the woman, even as Yunho snorts and rolls his eyes and looks a little bit hesitant around the edges.

"When he forgets to take his shoes off," gets much of the same, although this time Yunho doesn't try to hide the automatic smirk.  

“When he forces me to work extra hard at work,” gets him a nudge to the side, Yunho definitely bemused now, although also a little withdrawn.

“When I look to my right and he’s there silently by my side,” makes the room suddenly warm.  

“When he gives and gives and gives,” gets him silence.

Huang-ssi looks pleased, hands clasped in front of her in her lap, pen forgotten behind her ear.

Yunho doesn’t look at Changmin and doesn’t say anything, which is good, because Changmin doubts he’d be able to hear over the sudden rush of blood ringing in his ears.

“That’s very good, both of you,” says Huang-ssi. “Is there anything else you want to say to each other?”

 _Yes_ , thinks Changmin.

“No,” says Changmin.

Yunho doesn’t move.

“No, I--” continues Changmin. “I think that was good, though.” He drags a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“Alright,” Huang-ssi agrees easily enough, and Yunho finally unfurls.

“Did you--” he says in one embarrassed rush, face flushed. “Did you mean it?”

Changmin stares at him, and for a moment, thinks he should just be honest. And then he stomps that down harshly, pulling his face together to get something of a smirk. “Of course not, hyung,” he says. “We’re not even in a relationship.”

There’s a beat.

“Ha hah,” Yunho says finally, eyes a little tight. “You’re hilarious, Changdol.”

Changmin keeps a straight face for all of three seconds before he’s off in helpless giggles. “Yeah,” he says. “But you believed me--”

Yunho smiles back at him, genuine. The tension falls away from his shoulders. “Yeah, well. I worked very hard.”

There’s a beat.

Changmin’s brain dances off into the gutter.

Yunho’s does as well, however, since the older man’s eyes immediately widen, mouth opening to protest whatever bad joke Changmin is planning. “Don’t you dare,” he says.

Changmin raises both hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “I wasn’t even around when you worked on your list.” He doesn’t laugh. “The first one, anyway--”

“ _Okay_!” says Yunho over him. “That’s enough of that--Huang-ssi.”

Their therapist makes a noise.

“Are there any other lists we can make?” Yunho turns puppy dog eyes on the woman. “Like--things I _hate_ about him? There’s so many things I _hate_ about him--I’d need more than just five.”

“Oh, well--” says Huang-ssi. “I--”

“Me too,” interrupts Changmin. “Me too--I have _more_ things I hate about him--”

“I suppose we could talk a little more about the things you wish the other would talk to you about first before doing?” Huang-ssi consults her notebook. “Like.” She looks up at Changmin. “Changmin-ssi.”

Changmin stares back with a blinding smile.

“You were saying how you wished Yunho-ssi would…stop pressuring you into public speaking?” Her head tilts. “Is this work related?”

“No,” says Yunho at the same time Changmin says, “Yes.”

Huang-ssi pauses.

“I mean yes,” says Yunho at the same time Changmin repeats, “Yes.”

Yunho pauses so he can glare at Changmin.

“Hyung seems to think I should use the microphone more for pre-- _work_ ,” says Changmin, only barely managing not to yelp when Yunho stomps on his toe. “I need that.”

Yunho has the decency to look a little chagrined. “He does, though.”

Changmin lets out a puff of air. “I don’t see why I do--you’re very good at it on your own.”

“Yeah, well, it’d be nice if you pulled your weight once in awhile--”

“I’ll have you know I more than pull my weight. Sometimes I even pull your weight, across stage and everything-- _ow_.”

Yunho pulls his foot back looking smug. “My point is Changminnie really needs to work on his public speaking skills anyway. So I’m just doing him a favor.”

Changmin scowls. “Yeah, well, _my point_ is Yunho-hyung should maybe ask instead of just shoving microphones in my face like a caveman.”

Yunho scoffs. “If you just took them like a normal person instead of handing them back to me--”

“Oh real mature,” Changmin snaps.

“Ahem,” says Huang-ssi.

They both startle, suddenly guilty, but not willing to admit fault by apologizing.

There’s something ironic in that, Changmin decides.

Finally, Yunho sighs, shoots Changmin a rather pointed look, and smiles at their therapist. “Sorry,” he says. “We can get carried away, sometimes.”

“That’s fine.” Huang-ssi seems a little warm around the collar. “I know couples with all sorts of kinks.”

Changmin makes a dying whale noise in the background before he can stop himself, but he thinks he’s allowed because _kinks_?

Yunho evidently feels the same way, eyes going wide, mouth going slack, and managing to get out, “ _kinks_?” in a very hushed whisper.

Huang-ssi is nodding, and she’s either oblivious, cruel, or both. “And it’s fine. I’d much rather our sessions feel open--we talk about what you want to talk about, etc.--instead of more structured.” She shoots Yunho an apologetic look. “So maybe we’ll save the second list for later.”

Yunho closes his mouth. “Sure,” he squeaks.

Changmin nods frantically in agreement. “That is fine by me!”

Huang-ssi smiles. “Right,” she says. “But about this public speaking thing.”

Yunho barely leashes a groan, head falling back in his chair, and Changmin hands him the water bottle without pausing.

“Yes,” he says. “Isn’t he being unreasonable?”

\--

“I am going to kill you,” says Changmin out of the side of his mouth.

Yunho doesn’t acknowledge him.

“I mean it,” continues Changmin, still out of the corner of his mouth. They haven’t been greenlit for filming yet so it’s just the two of them in front of the poster in suits waiting for the signal to start the press con.

Yunho keeps ignoring him, unfazed.

Changmin wants to punch him in his stupid perfect face.

“Hyung,” Changmin tries, one last time, before they’re queued to talk.

They take turns, because Yunho’s decided, and Changmin tries not to look _too_ murderous.

He fails.

\--

‘Humanoids’ is brutal live. Changmin knew this in theory, since the MV shoot last month was equally brutal, but doing it live for an audience is exhausting. He doesn’t notice until after, of course, since the high of the performance and adrenaline and energy he gets from all their fans gives him lungs he didn’t know he had and lets him reach notes he didn’t think he could, but by the time they’re being carted back to the hotel Changmin’s legs are shaking.

Yunho had called shotgun this time around, so there’s no one for him to tease or torment or yell out for the nightmare that is all the run dancing the song has.

So Changmin sits, and shakes, and feels the energy fester in his soul, creeping down from his shoulders, through his abdomen, and settling in his loins like a poison. What the _fuck_? Dancing didn’t use to get him off until he and Yunho started fucking on the side.

This means that by the time they get back to their room, Changmin is about three seconds from making some very poor life choices, Kyungjae-hyung and their staff bedamned.

“Passports,” says their manager, pointedly ignoring the way Changmin is looming behind him.

Yunho blinks back at him and yawns, but goes to fetch them from their suitcases anyway.

Kyungjae-hyung takes them, still ignoring Changmin, who is still looming. He’d stop, but he’s not sure he could so. He’s settled for crossing his arms but not tapping his foot like a lunatic.

“I can give you twenty minutes,” the man says.

Changmin takes it all back. He’ll just make poor life choices in front of everyone on their team _except_ Kyungjae-hyung.

Yunho yawns again.

Changmin’s dick starts to wane.

“What are you _doing_?” hisses Changmin, like an idiot.

Thankfully, no one acknowledges him.

“I don’t want to miss our flight,” say Yunho, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I guess we’re sleeping on the flight?”

Changmin’s dick gives up the ghost, tempered by the weariness in Yunho’s expression, and the knowledge that they’re not going to get a break between flying and performing and then touring. Changmin would be horrified, because since when has his heart outweighed his damn dick on any decision ever, but Changmin also hasn’t managed to stop standing menacingly behind Kyungjae-hyung, so Changmin keeps his mouth shut.

Their manager looks sorry. “Yeah,” he says.

Yunho rolls his shoulders back. “Alright,” he says. “Changdol-ah.”

Changmin startles to attention, stepping around Kyungjae-hyung and heading for his suitcase.

“We’ll be down in ten minutes,” Yunho says.

Changmin spends the entire plane ride trying to sleep, knowing he should sleep, and dozing only mildly while Yunho snores loudly on his shoulder, unabashed or concerned by the fact that the rest of their company is staring at the two of them. They both still have their sunglasses on, and have had them on since they left the hotel, and plan to keep them on when they emerge into the sunlight tomorrow morning.

This is good, because at the very least he doesn’t have to make eye contact with anyone. They all probably think he’s asleep as well, which is better, because it’s one thing to fall asleep on your also sleeping bandmate and it’s another to fall asleep on your visibly uncomfortable but also somewhat charmed bandmate.  

Sunglasses, Changmin decides, are the greatest invention ever.

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/160014804405/zimriya-title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	7. december 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s theme song is ‘Dance with Somebody’ by Mando Diao which I only know b/c of German soaps but also. It is kind of what I had on my brain for notable scenes.
> 
> Scar is the BEST. She's so busy but she's the reason this chapter is only two days late. All other mistakes are my own. We are in the home stretch everyone. I finished the thing so I know how many chapters total now wooo. (My favorite line of the story so far is in this chapter I wonder if anyone will catch it.)

**seven.** _december 2012_

\--

They have a fansign at Yeodo IFC mall and afterwards film promotional material for the repackage, since they’re already sitting in front of a giant poster of their album, and they’re ‘pretty’ as their stylists put it.

Yunho’s got on a white v-neck, a blazer, hair soft over his forehead and styled to flop at an angle, while Changmin gets wrapped up in an oversized scarf and has his bangs ironed down so that they fall in even more of a bowl-shaped way. They’re letting him grow them out, and Changmin pretends it’s because he growled at the lot of them that he’d be willing to be long and black again, and not because Yunho had stood behind him and menaced a little like the overachieving leader-ssi that he is.

The interview is easy enough. They talk about the album, mostly, and then they get asked about each other. Yunho rambles on for what feels like hours about mountains and rivers, and ‘ten years’ and how Changmin is his support and his mountain and river and how together they can do anything.

Changmin sits through it, thankful for the scarf. When it’s over, he smiles only slightly frantically and says: “Yunho-hyung said exactly what I wanted to say.”

The interviewers laugh.

Kyungjae-hyung narrows his eyes.

Yunho’s fingers tighten, almost infinitesimally, around the body mic.

Changmin keeps smiling.

\--

Yunho is cold on the way back to the apartment. Changmin is content to leave him be, and is even grateful for the silence, but Kyungjae-hyung had very harshly shoved the two of them into the back seat together after they’d been set free, so Changmin thinks he should probably try to say something.

“Have you met the rest of the cast, yet?” he tries.

Yunho’s head angles slightly, but otherwise he shows no signs that he’s listening.

“What about Sooae-noona?” Changmin tries again, shooting a quick look at Kyungjae-hyung, who meets his eye impassively. Changmin shivers, before turning back towards Yunho. “Is she as beautiful in person?”

“Hodong-hyung’s making a comeback,” says Yunho, still not meeting Changmin’s eyes, voice serene. “You should see about hosting the show with him.”

Changmin’s mouth opens and closes. “What?”

Yunho finally turns to look at him, and for a second Changmin falters, entirely confused, and then Yunho smiles.

It lights up his whole face, makes his eyes crinkle, and Changmin knows without a doubt it is also completely and utterly fake.

His throat goes dry. “Um.”

“I just mean since I’ll be busy with filming, is all,” Yunho says, voice equally bright and fake sounding. “And then probably enlisting.”

And they’re right back where they were a month ago, and Changmin can already feel a headache coming on.

He grits is teeth. “Hyung,” he says, voice tight.

Yunho just looks back at him, unaffected. “Changdol,” he says, and it’s not taunting, but it raises Changmin’s hackles anyway. “You should think about it. It could be good, to go be separate and in public.”

“Separate and in public,” repeats Changmin, feeling like he’s swallowed a bed of nails. “Hyung.”

Yunho continues, unfazed. “Also, Hodong-hyung is lovely. He’ll take care of you.”

“I do not need Hodong-hyung to take care of me!” snaps Changmin, feeling a flush creeping across his neck now, and wow, this has not gone the way he wanted.

In the front seat, he can hear Kyungjae-hyung telling Driver-nim to take the long way back to their apartment, and also asking Jooyoung-hyung for Huang-ssi’s phone number.

Changmin reigns his temper in with clenched fists, and his voice only sounds slightly raspy when he next speaks. “It’s funny that you should say that, though,” he says, not even trying for fake and smiling at Yunho with too much teeth. “About being separate in public. Because I’ve actually been talking with Kyuhyun about moving out.”

There’s a beat.

Yunho’s carefully constructed mask comes shattering apart. “What?” he says, even as Changmin keeps going, buoyed by the play of emotions crossing the older man’s face. There’s surprise, hurt, fear, and anger there now, and Changmin breathes it in deeply, pleased as you like.

“I was thinking I’d get a place close enough to his,” he says, like they’re discussing the weather. “Because it’ll make going back to someone’s after Kyuline gatherings easier. You should probably start looking for something small too.”

Yunho’s mouth is still open.

Changmin is starting to worry about flies, even through the doors are closed.

Kyungjae-hyung it seems has settled for very loudly talking about their schedule with Jooyoung-hyung.

Changmin ignores them with vicious glee. “We’re nearly enlisting age now, anyway,” he says, slamming the final nail into the coffin with equal fervor. “As you keep reminding me.”

And that seems to do enough, because Yunho’s mouth shuts with an audible click and he glares at Changmin, for lack of a better word, and even though it’s probably stupid and probably likely why he’s stuck around as long as he has, Changmin feels arousal fission through him like a lightning crack.

His spine stiffens, mouth going wet, and Yunho’s eyes flicker down to his dick and back in a split second.

Changmin doesn’t cross his legs, but that’s only because _fuck_ this.

“You’re right,” Yunho says, and his voice is strained now, with no hint of subterfuge. “It makes sense for us to live separately.”

“Right,” agrees Changmin, feelingly strangely off center, and almost disappointed in how easy that was, but no less aroused.

There’s a tight moment of silence.

“But not today,” Changmin says finally, feeling the blush in earnest now, and refuses to meet Yunho’s eyes. “Later.”

“Later,” Yunho agrees, turning back to face the window, and then, like a tool, slides one hand very gently into Changmin’s lap.

The seatbacks keep them out of view from Kyungjae-hyung’s prying eyes, their manager not even pretending to be texting their therapist and instead boring holes in the two of them in the rearview mirror, but Changmin still has to bite his tongue to keep from slamming his legs together, breath gone, head spinning, and the earlier conversation entirely inconsequential to the hand on his cock.

Changmin drops his head back against the seat and hunches over, because maybe that’ll help, or get Yunho to come to his senses, or, no it just makes things _worse_ , because now Yunho is grinning and misinterpreting, and _taking his hand away_ , and Changmin is left aching, angry, and fucking _confused_ , while Yunho just pulls out his phone.

It’s going to be a long night.

\--

The great thing about PVC fabric, Changmin decides, is it really doesn’t matter if he’s comes all over the front of Yunho’s blazer thing, because it’ll just wipe off.

He’s starting to feel like this is a pattern, sneaking off between filming during live music programs to fuck in a broom closet, but Yunho hasn’t spoken to him properly since the car ride last night, so Changmin’s taking it as a win. And far be it for him to give up an opportunity to end up with Yunho on his knees in front of him, cheeks flushed, eyes staring up at Changmin like he can see into his very soul, and perfect, perfect mouth wrapped solidly around Changmin’s dick.

“This is--” Words are hard, Changmin decides. “This is--a bad--ide-- _a_.” Sentence structure is hard. Breathing is hard, Changmin’s _dick_ \---is also hard.

He thuds his head back against the conveniently placed wall a few times and wonders if Kyungjae-hyung would kill them for missing the ending. Or was it the recording itself? Or were they due to be backstage--were they going to have to smile for cameras and answer questions as if they were about to perform instead of doing it earlier in one great rush?

Yunho hums in the back of his throat, ripping an embarrassingly shrill noise out of Changmin’s throat, and Changmin’s eyes dart down like a missile, honing on Yunho’s lashes, drooped low over his lids so that all that Changmin can see is a barely there sliver of brown.

“Fuck,” Changmin says. Curses are easy.

It’s clear Yunho wants to say something, probably wants to make fun of him, or something, but Changmin is too close for banter.

He shoves both hands down hard into Yunho’s hair, ignoring the way his eyes widen and his throat closes in displeasure, and then groans, horrified at himself, but unable to release.

“ _Fuck_.”

Yunho isn’t fighting him, is the thing. Far from it--he actually seems to be enjoying it, if not looking a little bit raw around the edges, and somewhat teary, and Changmin really doesn’t know what to do with that besides groan and curse and toss his head from side to side.

What was it Yunho’d said, this time, before dragging him off. ‘Changminnie’s feeling a little bit tense I think we should get some fresh air so that he can relax’? Or _something_ \--fuck, did Yunho learn how to suck cock professionally what the _hell_.

There’s an affronted noise from below his belt, and Yunho applies just a hint of teeth, enough that Changmin’s pulse is suddenly roaring and his hands finally release their grip on Yunho’s hair.

He pulls off, gasping, lips all red and sloppy and Changmin shoves a hand down to grip at the base of his own cock just to stop from coming right into his eyelashes.

Because that would be terrible.

That would be lose your job level terrible.

That would not wipe off.

Changmin almost wants to laugh.

“I do not suck cock professionally!” Yunho is snapping, cheeks ruddy in the darkness, and wow, Changmin’s been saying all that out loud apparently. “Yes, you have!” hisses Yunho, glaring, and Changmin has the sense that if he wasn’t currently on his knees in a broom closet and--Changmin looks down almost helplessly--half hard in their too-tight fake leather trousers, he’d be crossing his arms.

“Oh.” Changmin blinks. He’s still holding his dick. Probably it wouldn’t be okay to jerk off right in this moment. Even though Yunho looks breathtaking like this. “Oops.”

“Oops--!” snarls Yunho, and then breaks off with what sounds very close to a whine when Changmin lets go of himself long enough to grab him by the shoulders, hauling him upright and tugging him close so that the older man is essentially caging him in to the wall.

“I’d say sorry but really you should be taking it as a compliment,” Changmin explains, letting go of one of Yunho’s arms so that he can go for the zip of his trousers. “I just mean you’re very good at that, is all.”

“I should take it as a compliment that you think I suck cock like a whore,” replies Yunho, sounding annoyed, but also sliding a hand down to help Changmin with his zipper anyway, batting Changmin’s useless left hand away with a hiss of breath between teeth.

Changmin blinks at him, trying for innocence. “I mean I didn’t say whore?” he says. “I just said professionally? I think?”

Yunho stares back at him, unimpressed, but fishes himself out of his underwear anyway. Changmin is almost sad; if there were ever pants to go boxer-less with during a performance--it would be these.

“But you implied it.” Yunho wraps a hand around himself and just strokes, once, twice, and then three times before Changmin lets go of him completely with what even he might admit is a whine, and sticks his own hand and dick into the mess.

Which is totally fabulous like wow. Changmin’s starting to feel almost dizzy.

That might be because of the professional cock-sucking thing, actually, though. He opens his mouth to say this, spots the murderous look still hovering around the edges of Yunho’s face, thinks it might be better not to, and then, like some sort of ridiculous masochist, says it anyway.

Yunho’s grip on the both of them goes tight, stroke suddenly relentless, and Changmin spares a quick thought that it has to be equally affecting for him before he’s coming, voice breaking on something of a wail, mouth buried in the skin behind Yunho’s ear.

It takes a few seconds for Changmin’s brain to start working again, and then longer still for his eyes to start seeing again, and by the time he manages to lifts his head, he becomes aware that Yunho’s stopped alongside him, even though he’s still hard, his chest is heaving, and from the way he can’t seem to stop panting, he very much wishes he hadn’t.

Changmin is almost angry at his self control.

“I just mean you’re good at it,” he says, and then, because why not, flips the two of them around with a lot less grace than he would like. His legs are shaking, so it’s not hard to sink to his knees, and then he might as well. “Look, Hyung, I’m not very good at words, we know this.”

Yunho shoots him a look bled through entirely with arousal, brows pulling together.

“I’ll even let you tell me I suck cock like a whore, how bout,” Changmin continues, trying for polite and perfect dongsaeng and ending up sounding far too eager for his own liking.

His ears might be blushing. Can his hair grow out right the fuck _now_?

Yunho stares at him for a long moment, before, reaching down to pet the shell of Changmin’s left ear, and then he grins, and cups the back of Changmin’s head, fingers petting through the finely shorn hair their and stroking along his nape.

Changmin’s throat goes dry. _Shit_.

“Deal,” Yunho says sweetly, and thrusts.

\--

“Okay but you have to admit,” Changmin says after, standing awkwardly in a corner on their way out of the SBS building while Kyungjae-hyung holds his face in one hand and doesn’t call Kim Youngmin with the other. “At least we’re only being reckless career ruining idiots _after_ we’ve performed. Who cares if we look slightly unhinged when we go on stage and don’t win music programs.”

Yunho steps on his foot, but otherwise doesn’t say anything helpful, so Changmin ignores him.

“Also I really think you’re overreacting. The only reason you know we’re reckless career ruining idiots is because you opened that closet door without knocking.”

Kyungjae-hyung makes a pained wailing sort of noise and lets go of his phone, bringing his other hand up to his face and just sort of clutching. “‘We’ve signed you up for couple’s counseling,’ you said. ‘It’ll help fix your relationship,’ you said. ‘ _Are you sure you don’t want to have sex with Yunho-hyung_ ,’ you said--”

Yunho finally breaks his silence, reaching with one hand for Kyungjae-hyung’s phone, and the other for his arm. “Hyung,” he says. “Please calm down.”

Kyungjae-hyung glares at him, and for a second Changmin thinks they’re actually going to fight it out in the middle of the SBS Open Hall. He should get popcorn. Or maybe jerk off. Since this fight is basically about him. If he spun it correctly, Changmin could even go so far to say that the two of them were fighting _over_ him.

Changmin opens his mouth to level a truly barbed bit of banter, and Yunho reaches back to bat him in the arm harmlessly without pause.

“Yah, you’re not helping--don’t.”

Changmin’s jaw snaps shut, cheeks suddenly warm, and Kyungjae-hyung despairs even more, reaching up to tug at his hair now.

“It fucking _worked_ , is the thing!” he says, as Yunho finishes with his phone and shoves it back towards Changmin as well. “Your relationship hasn’t been this good since before the split!”

The three of them mull that over, Changmin with only half interest because he suddenly finds himself holding his manager's _phone_.

“If it makes you feel better I think it’s probably more the therapy than the other thing?” says Changmin, tapping at the home button the phone idly. He doesn’t know the passcode offhand.

Kyungjae-hyung makes another wailing noise, and then closes his eyes. After a moment, he opens them again, very briefly pinches the bridge of his nose, and then take his phone back from Changmin.

Yunho’s released him somewhere in the middle of that, hands in his pockets, leopard print sweatshirt not sitting quite right behind his head. Changmin would fix that, but fuck that. Someone else can be the overcontrolling mother hen with Yunho today.

“It’s just to relieve stress,” Yunho points out, which actually seems to help, because Kyungjae-hyung manages a smile.

“Also we are still moving out, so,” Changmin puts in, never one not to have the last word, and only barely manages not to smile like overlord when Yunho’s head snaps around the and the older man glares at him. “It’s totally fine.”

\--

“I don’t think I understand,” says Huang-ssi, after a mild pause. “Your friend… Kyungjae-ssi… didn’t know you were in a relationship?”

“That is correct,” Changmin manages through gritted teeth.

“And yet Kyungjae-ssi is the one who signed you both up for couple’s counseling in the first place?”

“That is also correct.”

“I--” says Huang-ssi. “Am I missing something?”

“Nope.” Changmin shoots Yunho a dark look, since this is his fault entirely and the least the man could do would be _help_ a little.

Yunho just looks a little shell-shocked, and given the first thing he’d blurted when they’d finished being herded into the room complete with an escort--Myunghwan-hyung, looking entirely too bemused about the situation, even as _Yunho’s_ ears flamed at the gentle teasing and Changmin was the one trying for unaffected--was something along the line “so our manag--Kyungjae-hyung knows we’re sleeping together,” before Huang-ssi had so much as opened her notebook and fished out her pen.

And then he’d checked out of the conversation, face red, and left Changmin to deal with the backlash.

Huang-ssi’s brows furrow cutely. “I--”

“What Yunho-hyung means is Kyungjae-hyung walked in on us…” How does he say this in a way that doesn’t reveal the full extent to their relationship--that is, how does he phrase, ‘Kyungjae-hyung walked in on me blowing Yunho-hyung’ in a way that seems romantic and relationship-like as opposed to ‘stupid’ and ‘career ruining’ as the man had so kindly put it?

Yunho seems to come out of his trance. “Together,” he says. “In… the Biblical sense.”

There’s a beat.

Huang-ssi makes a note.

“What Bible are you reading?” mutters Changmin, trying not to laugh.

Yunho kicks him.

“Right.” Huang-ssi still seems dubious, but she lets it go. “And things have been alright since then?”

“Well he hasn’t managed to look me in the mouth without blushing since,” says Changmin, because what are filters.

Luckily Yunho speaks as well, looking at Changmin mostly and head tilted. “I think he’s more concerned about how Changminnie wants to move out,” he says, and Changmin kicks him harder than he should be feels no sort of chagrin whatsoever.

“Hyung,” he hisses. “This is absolutely not the time.”

Huang-ssi is writing something down. “Moving out?”

“Never mind,” Changmin kicks Yunho again, and the older man sighs.

“What Changminnie said.”

Changmin tries to look a little less constipated.

Huang-ssi looks like she wants to press the issue, but her professionalism wins out and she drops the topic smoothly. “Kyungjae-hyung said you had some sort of anniversary coming up?” she says, frowning down at the notepad. “Although you said August--”

“Right,” Changmin interrupts. “The anniversary of our… the time we first met?” he ends up with. “And in August we…ended up together together?”

Yunho is staring back at him with too bright eyes. “Yeah.”

Changmin swallows. “I don’t think we need to talk about that--do people normally celebrate the day they first met instead of the day they got together.”

There’s a beat. “Well technically we didn’t celebrate the day we got together, did we?” says Yunho, and Changmin would kick him but he’s used up his number of kicks for this meeting already, so he settles for turning back towards Huang-ssi with a too-bright smile.

“Yes, our anniversary,” he says. “It’s this month--right after Christmas.”

Huang-ssi blinks between the two of them with an odd smile on her face, almost like she knows something they don’t, and Changmin finds himself on edge before he can help himself.

“Yes.” Huang-ssi’s smile grows a little. “Are you planning anything special?”

Changmin thinks they’ll probably be too busy appeasing fans and fending off calls from family members. They’re not off for Christmas so Yunho won’t be going home to Gwangju this year, and while no one would say it to his face, both of them know neither of his parents are particularly pleased.

“Not really, no,” he says, at the same time Yunho says, “of course. It’s our _anniversary_ ,” and Changmin is struck by a remarkable feeling of deja vu.

There’s a long silence.

Finally Yunho breaks it, voice very controlled. “Changminnie keeps doing that.”

Changmin’s lips pull back before he can help himself. “I am right here.”

Yunho doesn’t look away from their therapist. “I was talking to someone a few days ago and was saying how important he is to me and how I feel like we can do anything together and he just said ‘Yunho-hyung said everything I wanted to say’ and laughed.”

Changmin’s face feels hot. “That’s my thing, Hyung. That’s what people expect of me.”

Yunho still won’t look at him. “You could at least be somewhat grateful--”

“Grateful.” Changmin almost laughs. “Grateful that what? You got the stick out of your ass and decided I wasn’t that bad at dancing after all?”

Yunho finally looks at him, eye blazing. “I just mean it wouldn’t kill you to act like you like me even a little--”

“I should think I act like I like you plenty,” Changmin says, with as much dignity as he can manage through the angry haze spinning around his vision. “Given that I had your _cock_ down my th--”

“Okay!” says Huang-ssi, voice very high. “Okay--Changmin-ssi.”

Changmin turns to look at her, lips set. “I’m sure that Yunho-ssi didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.”

Yunho scoffs--no doubt he fucking _did_ , but sobers when Huang-ssi turns to look at him.

Changmin almost wants to see her expression, but thinks better of it, letting himself be a little smug at the cowed look marring Yunho’s perfect mouth.

Yunho’s jaw clenches. “I did not,” he says finally.

Changmin is definitely smirking.

“And Yunho-ssi.” Huang-ssi switches tactics with lightning precision. “I’m sure that Changmin-ssi very much likes you--even when you’re not having sex.”

Changmin almost laughs out loud at the absurdity of that sentence--not because it’s not true, but because _what the fuck is his life_ even anymore. But he holds it together with all eight years of idol training.

Yunho is looking a little hot under the collar. “Yes, well,” he says. “I just. I feel like he doesn’t, is all.” He shoots Changmin an almost apologetic look, eyes sort of…sad.

Changmin’s throat feels clogged. He coughs a little to clear it, brain whirring. “I do like you, Hyung,” he says finally. And after a beat: “even when we’re not having sex.”

Yunho laughs before he can help himself, startled and surprised sounding, before covering his mouth with one hand.

Changmin feels an answering grin on his face--Yunho always sound so hilariously stupid when he does that, almost fake, like he’s trying too hard, but anyone who knows him knows he actually laughs like that when he’s startled.

Huang-ssi marks something on her page, also smiling. “Perhaps it might help if I give you some more homework?’ she says finally, and Changmin blinks, eyes darting to the clock in the corner of the practice room.

The hour’s gone quicker than he was expecting.

“Just to get the ball rolling--certainly this isn’t something I want you to think of as an assignment, but since you both seem very withdrawn about your feelings--”

Changmin snorts.

“--I would suggest that next time you think that you like Yunho-ssi, you say it.”

Changmin mulls that over. “Okay,” he says simply.

Yunho blinks at him. “Okay?”

“I don’t think that should be too hard,” Changmin continues.

Yunho’s brow furrows.

Huang-ssi looks ecstatic. “Lovely,” she says. “I’ll see you both next week, then.”

“Yay,” says Changmin.

Yunho just keeps staring at him, eyes narrowed.

\--

“I like you most when you give me the window seat,” says Changmin, trying not to smile too much like a demon when Yunho’s teeth clack together audibly.

He’s already in the window seat, set down his bag, arranged his legs suitably, and looking murderous behind his sunglasses.

“You brat.”

Changmin only smiles wide, flicks his bangs out of his eyes, and flutters his lashes a little.

Yunho gets up out of the seat, but the doesn’t move so much as press against the row in front of them a little, so that if Changmin wants to take his prize, he’s going to have press up against every bit of him.

He swallows. “Thank you.”

Yunho cops a feel, that fucker, but is gone again before Changmin can do anything about it.

“I like you most when you let me drink on the plane,” continues Changmin, because he can’t help it, and they’re just doing anything _super_ extraneous in Japan that would be hindered by him having had a few sips of wine on a plane, but Yunho’s expression still shutters closed.

“Or not.” Changmin turns his eyes forward instantly, ears hot. “Or not. That’s fine.” There’s a pause. Changmin can hear Huang-ssi’s voice in his head. “I still like you,” he says, just to get her to shut up.

The mental projection of his therapist is smiling at him.

Changmin swallows.

Yunho exhales, seemingly appeased, and Changmin buckles himself into his seat with a slightly calmer heart.

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose, Changdol,” Yunho says, right up against Changmin’s too warm ear. “Are you trying to get laid on this plane?”

Changmin nearly bites of his tongue.

Yunho keeps talking. “Something tells me you’d like me most then.”

Changmin _would_ , is the thing.

He keeps staring at the seat in front of him, heart thudding in his ears.

There’s a short pause. Yunho’s breath puffs out against Changmin’s ear.

Then the older man moves back in his seat. “Or not,” he says. “That’s fine.”

Changmin is almost impressed.

He’s also incredibly aroused, he realizes, so he hauls off his scarf and stuffs it in his lap as some sort of barrier, patently refusing to look in Yunho’s direction.

He can practically feels the smirk coming off him.

 _Bastard_.

\--

“There’s no such thing as forever,” says Changmin, and it’s a _joke_.

Yunho even _laughs_. Shinyoung-noona laughs. Everyone laughs. It’s _funny_. And then have to go rap and dance, and they play a bunch of the album on the radio, and all in all Changmin feels like it was a good night. Even though he did sort of sound out text laughing a lot at full volume while Yunho bounced at his side and the entire room got turned into a disco.

By the time they’re in the car heading home, Changmin’s relaxed, head leaned back against the seat, yawning. It’s been a busy few days between Japanese album prep and work--Nissan Stadium is definitely happening it seems--and Beatles Code, which had been one of the most entertaining shows to go guest on, if not a little bit absurd.

So of course Yunho has to ruin it, turning to face Changmin in the car with a very serious face and saying, “you don’t believe in forever?”

Changmin doesn’t curse him out for the surprise but it’s a near thing, heart pounding, because when the hell had the other man gotten so close to him.

“Yah. Hyung!” he says, fully aware of what an oxymoron those two words are next to each other. “Warn a man!”

Yunho just stares back at him with a serious expression that suggests he’s going to dispute the man thing, and Changmin seriously considers dragging the man’s hand down to his dick to make a point.

Luckily for their staff, he’s wiser and too tired to do so.

“Changdol.” Yunho’s voice is very low. “You don’t believe in forever?”

Changmin gets the feeling this is a trick question. “Is this a trick question?” he asks, because he’s tired and Yunho’s been hot and cold all week and he is not in the mood for cold showers and half spoken words.

Yunho’s jaw clenches. “Never mind,” he says, and crosses his arms, turning away.

Changmin scowls at him, suddenly furious, because what the fuck. “Yah, Hyung,” he says again, fully ready to fight about this, and Yunho reaches out and drapes an arm around him before he can.

Changmin blinks, startled into silence, and no one speaks for a long moment.

And then, finally:

“Are you cuddling?” says Kyungjae-hyung, from somewhere in the front of the van. “They’re cuddling, aren’t they? Please tell me you’re not cuddling.”

Changmin doesn’t really know what to say.

“We’re not cuddling,” Yunho calls back, even though it appears they very much are.

Changmin’s voice is gone. His legs feel shaky. His brain keeps making little mermaid jokes and telling him to convince the stylists to dye his hair full red for the tour.

“I’m going to leave you for EXO!” Kyungjae-hyung says. “You’re giving me actual grey hairs.”

Yunho rolls his eyes and yawns, giving Changmin one last squeeze, before pulling away to snuggle into the window. “Wake me when we’re home.”

“Home,” Changmin repeats, heart pounding. He should call Kyuhyun. Actually make good on his promise to move out. It’s more than time; he’s nearly twenty-six, and all. And Yunho’s nearing thirty. Thirty-year-olds shouldn’t still live with their male bandmates. Unless they’re _dating_ their male bandmates, Changmin’s brain points out, and Changmin tightens his hands into fists at his sides.

He ignores the voice in his head and closes his eyes. Sleep is good.

\--

It’s the wedding that does it. Yunho goes to the thing because Rokgi-hyung is part of the company, but also because Boa-noona is going, and because he hasn’t seen Hodong-hyung in a while, and just because he likes weddings period.

Changmin by contrast is less than interested in weddings, and has since made plans to go apartment hunting with Kyuhyun. He’s not actually going to, because even he knows better than to go traipsing around Seoul looking for real estate--the fans would know in three seconds flat and then there would be _articles_ \--but the look on Yunho’s face when he says that’s what he’s doing is worth the lie.

Only when Yunho gets home later that evening he doesn’t want to fuck so much as tease, which ends up with Changmin threatening to leave the bed, legs slammed shut and eyes furious, until Yunho sighs, gives up on trying to stick his fingers anywhere in Changmin, and instead decides to stick them in _himself_ \--

So that by the time they’re having the damn conversation Changmin’s breaths are coming in tiny pants and Yunho’s entire weight is nestled soundly across Changmin’s dick.

There are probably words that Changmin could be using to describe the feeling, but gasping and moaning and trying not to sound too damn virginal seems to be working best for him.

Yunho for his part, seems content to rock down onto him, eyes half lidded, and mouth curved up into a pleased smile.

And then he says, “Changmin what are we doing?” and the peace shatters.

Changmin glances down at where they’re joined, for a moment not certain if Yunho’s serious. “Fucking?” he tries.

Yunho scowls at him and clenches down, riding out Changmin’s sudden thrust upwards with a pleased hum. “No I mean. What are we _doing_?”

Changmin blinks at him some more, still looking down. “Um--”

“You don’t believe in _forever_ ,” Yunho says, hips rocking in a way that’s far too distracting for Changmin right now. “You won’t even tell the world that you like being in a band with me.”

“Oi.” Changmin is feeling attacked.

“I--” Yunho sighs, head tipping back a little, and Changmin has to kiss him on the jaw because he just has to.

Yunho’s eyes open at that, more than a little accusing, and he jabs a finger into the center of Changmin’s chest. “I don’t do _casual_ , Changdol,” he says finally, and Changmin gets with the program rather abruptly.

He doesn’t go soft, because, well, _Yunho_ , but his hips do stop moving, heart suddenly hammering in his chest, and he very suddenly needs to be anywhere but this room. “Yah this was not what we agreed,” he says.

Yunho frowns. “We didn’t really agree anything,” he points out. “It was like three in the morning and I’m pretty sure you just wanted to fall asleep.”

Changmin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “Hyung,” he whines, voice very shrill. “Hyung are you trying to _date me_?”

There’s a beat.

Yunho glances down at where Changmin’s dick is still pressed deep inside his ass. “Er,” he says. “Changdol--”

“Don’t you ‘Changdol’ me answer the question!” shrieks Changmin, not entirely sure what he wants the answer to be, but also sort of still fucking hard. His hips stutter, confused.

Yunho moans, the sound drawn out, and Changmin wants to hear the noise forever.

His head feels foggy.

“Changmin,” Yunho tries again, and Changmin has had enough.

“Never mind,” he says, thrusting in earnest now, both hands gripping Yunho’s hips, thumbing over the bone and holding him in place so he can fuck up with long, clean strokes. “We’ll talk about this later--”

“ _Changmin_ ,” whines Yunho, definitely not done with the conversation but going whiny despite himself, meeting Changmin’s thrusts with broken off sounding gasps. “Wait--”

“Later,” Changmin promises, and it’s a lie, and Yunho can see it, but he lets him get away with it anyway.

Somehow that only makes things worse.

\--

Changmin calls Hodong-hyung personally from their apartment bathroom, Yunho busy with breakfast and humming the tune to _Fated_ , to ask about the show he’s doing, because Yunho hadn’t let it go since the wedding, and it sounds very interesting. And he loves reading. And he really should find something to do while Yunho’s off shooting _Yawang_.

And then when that’s over, and Changmin’s fielding sharp texts from his manager about ‘you didn’t tell me you’d spoken to Kang Hodong about his show’ and ‘are you sure you want to get into variety by hosting a show?’, he texts Kyuline, heart pounding, to ask if they’d be willing to help him look for an apartment seriously, without having to go look at places yet, but just so that he’d have the ball rolling.

 _Yah_ , says Kyuhyun, after only a small pause. _Chwang what did you do?_

 _Nothing_ , Changmin texts back, stomach a knot of tension.

\--

“So, Hodong-hyung’s show,” says Yunho the morning the press release goes out, hidden behind sunglasses, exhausted from the concert and the flight, not meeting Changmin’s eyes.

Changmin nods, only slightly robotic. “Yeah.”

Yunho hums. “I think it’ll be good for you,” he decides eventually. “And it’ll get your name out there not attached to me.”

“I think it’s already out there, actually, given I’m the one with actual acting experience,” snaps Changmin, not sure where all the anger is coming from but unable to help himself.

Yunho’s jaw clenches, fists tightening. “Right.”

Changmin is breathless and aroused and anxious all rolled into one. He supposes it’s good that Huang-ssi didn’t seem to be very Christmas-oriented and agreed to see them the day before.

\--

“Changmin-ssi!” Huang-ssi looks surprised to see him so early, but Changmin knows if he doesn’t do this now, he’ll lose his nerve. “Hi,” he says.

Huang-ssi glances around the empty practice room, looking for Yunho, no doubt, and then blinks when she comes up empty.

Jaeyoung-hyung’s the one with her, blinking at Changmin curiously, but the man has enough sense to back out when he sees Changmin’s face.

Changmin doesn’t know what sort of expression he’s making but he doesn’t have time to mull it over. “Hi,” he says again.

“Is Yunho-sii…” Huang-ssi starts to say.

“He’ll be here later,” Changmin hurries to say. He’d had to promise his soul to Kyungjae-hyung to get to the practice room before Yunho, who no doubt is fully aware of what’s going on but too polite to box Kyungjae-hyung’s ears for the distraction. Changmin’d left somewhere in the middle of tour discussions-- _Time_ stuff, he thinks, which he would feel bad about--since that’s Japanese stuff and Kyungjae-hyung was probably inwardly preparing the worst schedule of Changmin’s life for tour plus variety show hosting--so he doesn’t have a lot of time.

But it’s _Christmas_ , and Huang-ssi is right _there_ , and Changmin is so tired of all the fighting.

“Huang-ssi,” he says, and then, after a moment. “Noona?”

Huang-ssi blinks at him startled, but allows it. She is older than Changmin. Changmin had looked it up a few months back because vetting and alcohol and Kyuline, so he knows she’s older than Yunho as well, but he’s never thought of her as more than her last name or her position.

“I.” Changmin really needs to find the words for this. “I. I think I said something--”

Only he doesn’t finish, since Yunho arrives, looking no worse for wear, with an out of breath Kyungjae-hyung trailing behind him.

The man meets Changmin’s eyes with an apologetic look, but nods at Huang-ssi and leaves regardless.

Changmin swallows the urge to curse the man out, or something.

Yunho is looking between Changmin and Huang-ssi with curious eyes. “Huang-ssi,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Changmin blurts, before he can help himself. “Hyung, I.” He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “It’s _Christmas_ we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t fight on Christmas.”

Yunho stares back at him with emotionless eyes. “Changmin,” he says.

“I do like being with you,” Changmin says, somewhat desperately. “I’m just bad at saying it.” He doesn’t say that it almost frightens him, that he doesn’t really know what they’re doing anymore--not the band and concert stuff, because that feels like the only part they’re good at, but the other stuff, the _sex_ stuff and the friendship stuff and the laughing at each other’s fuck ups on stage stuff.

Yunho hasn’t mistreat a toothpaste bottle in weeks, hasn’t needed prompting to tidy his shoes up in their apartment in months, and despite all his threats and fuss Changmin doesn’t think he actually wants to move out at all.

Yunho is still looking at him with blank eyes.

“Sorry,” Changmin says again, and turns to Huang-ssi. “Sorry, Huang-ssi--I--”

“Changdol,” interrupts Yunho, eyes still carefully void of feeling, but voice soft and tentative. “Thank you.”

Changmin’s heart feels funny, he still doesn’t know what to do with his hands, but he sits down in his designated seat anyway, bowing his head to Yunho in the easiest form of acknowledgement he can acknowledge.

There are warning bells going off in the back of his mind. And other more worrying bells. Bells to write home about.

Bells that make his skin itch.

Huang-ssi sits down in her own chair after a pause. “I’m assuming you had an argument?” she says.

“The same argument,” says Yunho, after it becomes clear that Changmin isn’t going to be speaking anytime soon. “About showing outwards appreciation.” When Changmin glances at him, he looks like he wants to say something, but he can’t, here. Even though this is an open and safe space, there are still things they really can’t discuss without giving up the ruse, as it were.

Changmin tries to smile. “I did try,” he tells Huang-ssi. “To tell him when I appreciate him, and stuff.”

Yunho snorts, bemused, no doubt thinking about the plane.

“But I will admit I wasn’t taking it seriously,” Changmin admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean I just feel like he should know, at this point.”

Yunho shoots him a look, curious.

“Like I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have stuck around for as long as I had if I didn’t.” Changmin keeps rubbing at his neck, and then drops his hand down before he starts tugging at his too short hair. “Like him, I mean.” Why is this so fucking _hard_? It’s not hard in bed, or on TV shows, although he’s usually trying to act like he’s not speaking the truth on TV shows. Sarcasm and bluster and a too serious expression to keep the world from seeing that he means it.

He risks a glance at Yunho.

The older man is staring back at him with a look of almost wonder on his face.

Changmin looks away quickly, uneasy. The bells are back.

“I do know,” Yunho says finally. “I do know--it’s just. It’s nice to hear it, is all.”

Changmin licks his lips nervously. “Don’t expect me to start broadcasting it all over,” he says, because he has an image to maintain and even if that changes he’s never going to be one to be overly sappy on national television. “But, um. Yeah.”

The tension has gone slightly out of Yunho’s shoulders. “Thank you, Changmin,” he says again.

Huang-ssi makes a pleased sounding noise in the back of her throat and jots something down. “This is lovely,” she says. “Really lovely. I’m so glad for you.”

Changmin doesn’t roll his eyes at her but he kind of wants to. But he’s thankful, because the moment feels less momentous now that he’s back in the mindset of therapy session instead of whatever the fuck that had been. A _confession_ , his traitorous mind points out, and then starts reciting the lyrics to his own damn song.

Yunho smiles kindly at Huang-ssi. “You’re not doing anything this Christmas?”

“Oh no, I’m not very religious,” she says, in a blasé, easy tone. “What are your plans?”

“Probably just to spend the day being lazy,” Changmin says. “Stay in bed, and all, if you know what I mean.”

Huang-ssi grins back at him, eyes knowing. “Ah,” she says.

“I think we have some work stuff, actually,” says Yunho, sounding confused, and then, rather abruptly. “ _Oh_.”

Changmin glances out the corner of his eye over at Yunho, who’s gone very red. He wants to smirk or something, but that might be inappropriate. But really, what are days off for if not to spend the day lounging about in bed with someone you care about? They don’t even have to fuck, because sleep is nice, and Changmin hasn’t had a proper night’s rest in ages. He’d even let Yunho have the fluffier pillow.

And then he has to bite his own tongue, because that wasn’t a very sexy thought--that was almost a _romantic_ thought, and what the _fuck_?

Huang-ssi and Yunho have kept talking about his and Changmin’s families now, and Changmin gives himself a shake and pipes up about Mangdongie and Taepoongie, because Yunho’s still a little bit bothered by the _Beatles Code_ stuff and it’s fun to watch him get all flustered.

Huang-ssi watches them and takes notes, smiling.

\--

“Changmin,” says Yunho, eyes very wide, mouth hanging open, hair mussed against the pillow. “Changmin--what are we doing--?”

“Fucking,” Changmin says on purpose, purses his lips together into a tiny smile and thrusts.

Yunho keens, eyes falling shut briefly as he rakes his nails down Changmin’s back, and Changmin thinks it’s unfair that he still feels so small in comparison, so out of his depth while Yunho seems perfectly comfortable baring everything.

“No--” Yunho gets his eyes open again somehow, breath puffing out against Changmin’s temples. “I mean--what are we _doing_ \--”

“I don’t know, Hyung, you tell me,” says Changmin, more to humor him than anything else. “What are we doing--what are _you_ doing--” He chases Yunho’s mouth for kisses. They don’t last very long, both of them too wired for anything other than muffled moans and messy gaps against each other’s lips, cheeks, and foreheads, but Yunho stops trying to speak for a few blessed moments anyway.

“ _Falling in_ love _with you_ ,” he says, voice raw, mere air, and shooting straight to Changmin’s core when he comes, back arched, hands tight around Changmin’s shoulders, and Changmin’s vision goes spotty with the force of his own orgasm.

The room is spinning.

Changmin should probably pull out, or something.

He doesn’t, panting, and rests his face against Yunho’s neck.

No one speaks for a moment.

And then:

“Hyung.” Changmin swallows, palms sweating, feeling award and raw and confused. “Hyung, I don’t--”

Yunho lets out a long breath, as if coming back to life, and very gently extricates himself from Changmin’s deer legs, wincing a little as Changmin pulls free.

“Go to sleep, Changdol,” he mutters, rolling away from Changmin with a groan, one hand dropping onto the bed between them, the other coming up to cover his eyes. He’s directly in the wet spot but entirely unconcerned. “You can have the fresh sheets.”

Changmin doesn’t want to leave. He hadn’t heard clearly, because he was somewhat distracted with one killer orgasm, but he thinks it had been--that he’d heard--that Yunho’d _said_ \--

“I just mean your cock,” Yunho says after a moment's pause. “I love your cock.” He still isn’t moving, arm hiding his entire face, and darkness hiding the rest of him. “You know that I--it was on my list.”

Changmin stares at him, at a complete loss. “ _Hyung_ ,” he says.

Yunho doesn’t move. “It’s fine--we don’t have to play. It’s my bed anyway.”

And it is, is the thing. Because they’d been watching old videos in celebration of making it nine years, and there had been some soju, and quite a lot of reminiscing, and giggling, and mocking because they’d had some downright horrific hair when they started. And then they’d watched some of the tour DVD, which had been awkward at the beginning, because neither of them really wanted to focus on the elephants in the room, or on stage, but then it had been nice, to look back and not be angry, because Changmin hadn’t felt angry, really, so much as a little nostalgic and very, very _lucky_.

Because he talks big, but it really has been amazing learning to work as a duo and as partners.

And then somehow they’d ended up in bed, because that was how a lot of their nights ended nowadays, and Changmin could blame the sentimentality of the date but he doesn’t know if that’s fair.

Yunho is still motionless on the bed, but he seems to be shaking slightly. He’s probably cold.

Changmin sits up, heart pounding, and goes to get the duvet from where they’d kick it off ages ago.

He tucks Yunho in with trembling hands, legs a little shaky, but very quickly gets himself together when Yunho notices he hasn’t just gone and left and is instead trying to bundle him up like a burrito.

“Yah, Changmin, don’t--I’m gross--” Yunho protests, finally pulling his arm away from his face so he can meets his eyes, and Changmin has to take a moment to deal with the all the naked emotions across his face and floating in his eyes.

He finishes bundling, heart pounding, settles himself in next to Yunho without speaking, and then, after a moment. “Ugh, you’re right.”

For a second he thinks Yunho isn’t going to say anything, but then the older man laughs--a real laugh--and shoves at Changmin’s shoulders. “You’re gross too,” he says.

Changmin rolls his eyes. “It’s really not a competition,” he says.

“Go get me a towel,” continues Yunho. “It’s your fault I’m like this anyway.”

Changmin rolls his eyes some more and gets to his feet, considerably less jittery now. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” he says, heading into the bathroom in search of washcloths. He bypasses his own reflection hurriedly not at all interested in looking at the marks littering his neck or the swell of his lips or whatever’s behind his eyes.

When he comes back, Yunho’s got his eyes closed, his breathing is even, and he doesn’t so much as flinch when Changmin pulls the blankets back to try to wipe away the mess covering his stomach.

He gives himself his own quick scrub, heart pounding, and with a quick glance around their very empty apartment, gets back in the bed with him.

Yunho wraps an arm around him after a moment, hand warm against the small of Changmin’s back, but Changmin just shuts his eyes and buries in close, mind awash with the sound of bells.

_What the fuck?_

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /cackles hooooooooomin are idiotsssssss. 
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/160118671030/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	8. january 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back on schedule sort of! I got lazy yesterday and didn't edit this OOPS. Enjoy!
> 
> Betaed by Scar as always, MVP, all other mistakes are my own.

**eight.** _january 2013_

\--

New Year’s Day dawns cold and ugly and far too soon. Changmin comes awake in stages--in the toes, when he realizes Yunho’s gone and stolen the blankets again so both his feet are sticking out into the cool air; in the thighs, when he realizes Yunho’s gone and cuddled him like the koala he keeps insisting Changmin is, one warm, solid thigh pressed in between Changmin’s like a furnace; and finally in the mind, when he realizes Yunho’s _in bed with him_ , still sleeping, mouth gaping wide, and oblivious to the fact that Changmin is slowly choking on his bangs.

He doesn’t really remember much of how they’d gotten here. They haven’t fucked since the 26th, and Changmin’s not even kidding himself by pretending he doesn’t know that’s on purpose. Sure, he could blame schedules, since Yunho’d been quite busy working on the ‘Spectrum’ performance with SMTown the Performance and Changmin had been meeting with Kang Hodong in preparation for the show that still didn’t have an official name. But deep down he knows better, especially given how busy they’d been in October and November, and they’d basically been sharing a bed for most of that.

For a moment, Changmin entertains the idea that maybe they’d just stumbled into one bed after the Gayo Daejun, too tired from the performance and the well wishes for anything else. But then Yunho sighs in his sleep, lashes fluttering, and Changmin becomes aware of the way his back is sticking to the sheets in the most unpleasant way.

He’s naked.

He’s--he peels open an eye--Yunho’s also naked.

Changmin stares up at the ceiling blankly.

And then everything comes back in wonderful technicolor.

“Ah,” Changmin says, for lack of anything better. Well. They’d been a little drunk on the new year and a lot tired because of the end of year festivals?

Yunho shifts in his sleep again, seemingly annoyed by the way Changmin has slowly started to inch himself free, and his brow pulls together, mouth turning down, and he clings.

Changmin blinks down at him, heart thudding in his chest and throat suddenly dry for reasons beyond sucking cock right before bed.

“Ah,” he says again. “Yun…Yunho-hyung?” It’s not a question but it _sounds_ like one, inflection fucked up at the end and jondaemal making everything complicated and messy. Changmin swallows, trying to get his bearings back, and tugs his leg free.

Yunho comes awake with an annoyed growl, reaching for Changmin before he can realize.

Changmin’s pulse is racing. “Hi,” he says.

Yunho blinks back at him for several terrifying seconds, sleep slowly leaving his eyes, before the reality of the situation seems to sink in, and he stops reaching for Changmin abruptly.

“Changmin-ah.” His voice is rough with sleep and disuse and all Gwangju.

Changmin swallows again, suddenly overcome. He’s still fucking naked, lying there on the bed very much out of the covers now, staring at an equally naked Yunho, who looks shellshocked.

They stare at each other for three more seconds, and then Yunho seems to remember himself. He gets up, pointedly not looking Changmin in the eyes, and waves a distracted hand in the air a few times. “I. Um. I should shower.” And then he’s off out of the room, dragging the bedsheet with him, leaving Changmin blinking at the impression he’s left behind on the bed.

Well, then.

Changmin swallows.

Happy New Year?

\--

Changmin has the day off for Yunho’s first day of filming. It make sense; it is still essentially close enough to New Year’s Day that Changmin doesn’t even feel bad dismissing their dorm staff and waving goodbye to Sungchang-hyung with a too wide smile. He’s looking forward to the free time. He can finally make a point to review casting decisions for the show without a name, and it’s not like he needs Yunho for that anyway.

Hodong-hyung’s been texting him on and off about various cast member decisions as well as titles, and Changmin had been taking it all in stride, but had also found himself looking to Yunho far too much--and then wanting to bang his head solidly against a wall for looking to Yunho far too much.

But it still feels weird to be alone in their apartment.

So he maybe. Looks up real estate listing near Super Junior’s dorm.

Maybe.

\--

“Happy Year of the Snake,” says Huang-ssi smiling brightly. “Have the two of you celebrated it?”

“Yunho-hyung’s an Ox,” says Changmin promptly. “He steps on snakes.” His head tilts. “And I’m a dragon. Dragons could probably _eat_ snakes.” He grins.

No one says anything.

Yunho leans over in his seat to whisper in Changmin’s ear. “Changdol are you making sex jokes in our therapy session?”

Changmin chokes on air and maintains his smile through years of training and practice. “ _Shut up_ \--you are not helping!” he hisses.

Huang-ssi keeps smiling at them, but less brightly. “Okay,” she says.

“What Changminnie means is we had a big celebration with other members of our company,” Yunho interrupts smoothly, shaking his head a little fondly.

Changmin watches him warily. Things have been weird since they woke up in bed together, like they probably should have been back when they first started sleeping together, and while this is the most Yunho’s spoken to him properly since then, he still feels like it’s just an act.

At the least, he’s pretty sure Kyuhyun called him the other night at four a.m. to warn him about setting foot in the Suju dorm for fear of Heechul-hyung committing murder or something, which probably says it all.

Changmin just wishes he knew what he’d done, beyond honoring Yunho’s seemingly obvious desire for space.

Huang-ssi and Yunho it appears have kept talking. They’re discussing the New Year in earnest now--hopes, dreams, etc, and Changmin has to fight hard not to yawn.

He’s tired, even though their schedules aren’t as crazy since Yunho’s off shooting _Yawang_ constantly and the show without a name hasn’t started filming because it still doesn’t have a name.

“And Changmin-ssi,” says Huang-ssi, effectively forcing Changmin out of his wandering thoughts.

His throat snaps closed on a yawn, hands coming together in his lap abruptly. He feels his eyes widening automatically, a goofy smile getting ready to spring into action.

Huang-ssi takes pity on him. “What are your New Year’s resolutions--in terms of your relationship.”

Changmin feels severely out of his depth, at a loss, and so fucking confused. He doesn’t even know what Yunho said, is the thing. Like was it tame and mild stuff about wanting to be the best people they are and treating Changmin right and blah blah blah or was it half-cocked shit that could be about a relationship but was actually about their upcoming Japanese comeback.

Like.

Changmin has no idea.

He risks a winning celebrity smile. “To, uh, always stay by Yunho-hyung’s side,” Changmin says, and immediately wants the ground to swallow him up in a massive sinkhole. “And, uh, good health for my friends and family.” He finishes it off with the smile, face almost hurting from the force of it.

Huang-ssi looks like she wants to coo at them.

Changmin doesn’t know what Yunho’s face is doing but he’s not going to fucking check because nope. Nope, nope, _nope_.

“That’s lovely, Changmin-ssi.”

Changmin smiles some more.

 _Fuck_.

\--

Yunho’s incredibly busy, is the thing. Like. Changmin knows better than to read too much into it, but they’ve gone from living out of each other’s pockets to still sort of living out of each other’s pockets but sometimes Yunho ends up in hotel rooms after late filming shoots and they don’t see each other until they’ve been corralled together for tour preparations in the wrong country. Yunho can’t very well fly out to Japan in the middle of the show--and Changmin’s got his own stuff to worry about (filming’s in three damn days)--but they can still go over stadium capacities and figure out setlists.

So it’s not like Yunho’s avoiding him on purpose. They’d even managed to have a moderately civil discussion about Changmin’s show without a name, which lead to Changmin tentatively texting Hodong-hyung about how he’d always liked _The Little Prince_ and maybe using it in the title since the show was going to be about books. It actually felt like they were getting somewhere, to the point where Changmin had actually been taken aback by finding Yunho’s door closed later that night.

Which is why he ends up locked in the bathroom the day after, phone clutched to his face, staring nervously at the door like Yunho’s going to come home early or something.

“Isn’t he filming?” says Kyuhyun, when Changmin explains. “Why would he come home early--”

“To spite me,” says Changmin, eyes darting around the room. It’s too bright in here, and too reflective, but he didn’t want to do this in his bedroom, or Yunho’s bedroom. The bathroom was the safest; small, with a lockable door that he can get away with actually locking, and far enough into the apartment that Changmin would have plenty of warnings if anyone came by looking for him.

“Changmin.” Kyuhyun sounds incredibly bemused. “What are you even talking about?”

“Yunho-hyung wants to fucking _date me_ ,” Changmin says, because he hadn’t had a chance to fully develop that thought since their _Anniversary_ , a full week ago, and Kyuhyun had been too busy with end of year promotions and Super Junior M promotions that there really hadn’t been any time for his best friend to play the fucking part.

Kyuhyun is silent on the end of the phone. “Maybe I should come over,” he says.

Changmin doesn’t bite his own nails because he is a seasoned professional and grown adult man. “I mean I’m assuming.” He paces around the room a little. “We haven’t fucked in like two weeks, though, so maybe I’m just horny.”

There’s a beat.

Changmin very frantically tries to remember if he actually got around to telling any of his friends about the sleeping with Yunho thing.

“Yeah, I’m definitely coming over,” says Kyuhyun finally. “You fucker. I just got off a two hour flight and also my musical starts tomorrow--how dare you _fuck Yunho-hyung_ without fucking _telling me--_ ”The phone disconnects with an ominous beep.

“Fuck,” Changmin says. And then, after a moment. “Hang on I told him _months_ ago--”

\--

 _Cho Kyuhyun you awful human I told you_ months _ago I was fucking Yunho-hyung you’re the worst friend_ , Changmin sends into the Kyuline group text.

Kyuhyun’s handle pops online briefly, the number next to his message changes to indicate he’s read it, and then he goes offline again.

Changmin narrows his eyes. “Oh, you _bastard_ ,” he hisses.

\--

“Hyung,” says Minho. “Hyung, please come open the door. I, uh. I come in peace?”

Changmin stares moodily over at his door intercom, eyes narrowed and arms crossed across his chest. He’s sitting in a conveniently placed indent on the couch--from Yunho, he thinks--in sweatpants and an old t-shirt that he thinks is his but might not be his because it’s threadbare and sort of hangs off his neck at a weird angle. He’s also wearing fluffy socks, because it’s fucking winter.

Choi Minho is at his door.

“Hyung,” Minho tries again. “Hyung, please-- _fuck this_ \--Changmin-hyung _open the damn door_!”

Changmin is almost proud of Minho.

“I swear _I’m_ not mad that you’ve been fucking Yunho-hyung in totally not secret cause you totally told us--don’t look at me like that--we all _saw_ the text--Changmin-hyung’s not a _complete_ idot--” Minho continues shouting, and Changmin nearly brains himself in his haste to get to the door.

“Yah, don’t fucking say that-- _I have neighbors!_ ” screeches Changmin, hauling the door open to find Kyuhyun wrapped around Minho like a fucking octopus, face stretched into a fake grin.

“Hi,” he says. “I can explain?”

Changmin is seriously considering slamming the door.

“It was in case you looked at the video,” Minho explains, stepping into the apartment and toeing off his shoes. He places them gently by the door, which he shuts behind him and Kyuhyun after a mild pause.

Changmin lowers the hand that had been holding the door belatedly.

“Also, hello, I love you, what’s this about you and Yunho-hyung not sleeping together for weeks?” Minho nudges at Kyuhyun to take off his own shoes. “That sounds awful, Hyung. What do you need from me? I definitely wouldn’t take advantage of your stress-induced amnesia for my own gain.”

Kyuhyun punches Minho in the shoulder gently.

Minho swipes back at him, kind of like an angry cat.

Changmin watches them bat at each other in his doorway for a long moment. “Well come in, then,” he says finally. “Welcome to my soon to be ex home.”

He heads back over to the couch and sinks into the cushions.

There’s a mild silence.

“So you’re serious about that,” Minho says finally. “He’s serious about that--sorry for laughing at you, then, Hyung.”

There’s the sound of someone getting hit again, then Minho making a fuss.

Changmin tilts his head back against the cushion and sighs.

“Is that Yunho-hyung’s shirt?” says Minho finally, and Changmin snaps out of it.

He points at his friend wildly, heart hammering. “It fucking _is not_!” he shouts. “I do not wear Yunho-hyung’s clothes!”

Kyuhyun stares back at him unaffected, before crossing to take a seat on the couch next to him. “Told you he was having a midlife crisis,” he tells Minho, gesturing towards the kitchen. “Go see if he’s still hoarding the good stuff.”

“I do not hoard the good stuff!” protests Changmin, even as he leans into Kyuhyun a little. That’s only because Kyuhyun is warm and Yunho’s t-shirt is threadbare. Changmin’s. Changmin’s t-shirt--it’s _not_ Yunho’s.

“You’re definitely wearing Yunho-hyung’s t-shirt,” says Kyuhyun at the same time Changmin moans, “fucking hell I’m wearing Yunho’s _t-shirt--_ I’m a _girl_ ” and covers his face with both hands.

Kyuhyun reaches over and pets him on the head a few times. “There there,” he says, not sounding very comforting. “Now. What’s this about dating Yunho-hyung?”

Changmin peers angrily out at him from between two fingers. “Who said anything about dating Yunho-hyung.” He narrows his eyes a little. “Was it Siwon-hyung. Fucking Siwon-hyung. Tell him paws off--” He breaks off, horrified at himself, and then buries himself more firmly into Kyuhyun’s side, moaning in distress. “ _Kyu_ ,” he wails. “ _Kyu_ . I _want to date Yunho-hyung_.”

Kyuhyun pats him on the head again, still not sounding comforting. “There, there.”

Changmin should get better friends.

\--

Changmin would like the record show that he’s handling this newfound realization quite well. He’d managed to get through the teasing and the mocking by virtue of his alcohol collection, which was rather good, if he did say so himself, and left him feeling considerably less maudlin and considerably more sleepy and warm.

“I mean think of it this way,” Kyuhyun tries, swiftly handing off the alcohol to Minho, who rushes it back to the refrigerator. “You already know Yunho-hyung’s bad habits.”

Changmin mulls that over. “Continue,” he says.

Kyuhyun perks up a little, buoyed by the minute enthusiasm. “So like, you already know that you’re going to be annoyed the first time you so much as shower together and the man brings the toothpaste in.”

He makes a sour face, probably because Yunho and Changmin are basically married and he hadn’t realized, and Changmin agrees, because he also hadn’t realized and it’s his damn life.

Kyuhyun shakes himself. “You’re so fucking _married,_ Chwang, _fuck_ ,” he says.

Changmin lifts his head with as much dignity as he can manage. “You’re just jealous,” he says.

Kyuhyun smiles at him almost wistfully, and Changmin reaches for his almost empty shot glass somewhat desperately to prevent that line of thought.

“But back to my point.” Kyuhyun recovers quickly. “My point is you don’t have to worry about all of your bad habits either, because Yunho-hyung already knows pretty much everything about you.” He grins again. “And he’s already met your family.”

“Oh shit my _family_ .” Changmin hadn’t thought about that. “Shit. My _family_.”

Kyuhyun slaps a hand across his mouth. “Your family loves Yunho-hyung,” he says. “It’s fine.”

Changmin narrows his eyes at him, and says around his fingers, “There’s a difference between liking Yunho because they think he looks after me and liking Yunho after they find out he takes it up the ass from me.”

Kyuhyun’s eyes go very wide. “You were serious about that?” he says. “Yunho-hyung lets you _fuck_ him?” He sounds reverent. “You lucky bastard?”

There’s a beat.

Minho peeks into the room. “Do I need to put the glasses away also, hyungs?” he says, eyeing the glass in Changmin’s hand warily.

Changmin sets it down gently. “Kyu,” he says mildly. “What do you mean by that?”

There’s another beat.

Kyuhyun starts inching away from Changmin on the couch. “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing at all. Not like my hyungs have ever discussed it or anything--cause, you know, Yunja--” He shuts up abruptly, both hands coming up to cover his mouth.

Changmin stares at him like he can bore a hole in his face.

“Yeah, I’m going to put these away,” Minho decides, reaching for both glasses, and, after a moment’s consideration, goes to grab a handful of TVXQ/Tohoshinki trophies that Yunho has on display over by the television.

Changmin has to hand it to him; he had been eyeing the Daesang because it did look hefty enough to at least be threatening.

Kyuhyun looks like he wants to maybe leave.

Changmin feels incredibly pleased at that, crossing his legs over one another. “Well tough luck cause he’s _mine_ ,” he says, and then pauses. “Wait. No.”

It’s too late.

Kyuhyun forgoes self preservation in lieu of taunting, shouting for Minho to come back and take a picture of his momentous occasion--“Our Changminnie is all grown up and in _love_ , Minho-yah, we need to _document_ this”--and reaching out to pinch Changmin’s cheeks.

Changmin yelps, horrified, and decides that covering his dick is more important when Kyuhyun basically straddles him on the couch to get to his face. “Yah. Cho Kyuhyun!” he shrieks. “What are you doing--stop!”

The door opens.

Yunho steps in, sluggish and exhausted, with Kyungjae-hyung following him. “No, Hyung, it’s fine,” Yunho is saying. “I’m sure it’s just cause it’s the first day.”

Changmin very abruptly goes still.

So does Kyuhyun, but unfortunately he’s still straddling Changmin and holding onto both of his cheeks.

Yunho sands in the entryway, mouth still half open.

Kyungjae-hyung bumps into him. “Yunho-yah?” the man says, head tilting, and then he notices Changmin and company. His eyes narrow. “Don’t you have schedules?”

Changmin would smile, but his face already hurts from Kyuhyun’s damn pinches. He doesn’t think mustering fake cheer would be very good for his face. “No.”

Kyungjae-hyung’s eyes dart around the room and Changmin is so glad Minho disposed of all the alcohol and the shot glasses.

Yunho’s eyes meanwhile seem stuck on the trophies.

Minho very quickly drops the Daesang behind his back.

Finally, Kyungjae-hyung sighs. “Well, since you’re here.”

Changmin mouths that back at Kyuline, brows pulled together.

“They’re releasing the official press release about the title today,” Kyungjae-hyung said. “Sungchang said he was going to stop over and talk to you about scheduling--they want you to film this Saturday.”

Changmin takes that in. “Okay.”

“The first guest is Lee Seojin.” Kyungjae-hyung’s eyes dart over Kyuline once more. “You need to read the book.”

Changmin thinks that over. “Sure.”

Yunho is still standing motionless in front of Kyungjae-hyung.

Changmin can’t look him in the eye yet.

Kyuhyun very wisely pulls his hands back away from Changmin’s face, but doesn’t get off him, so he’s still fucking straddling him.

Yunho seems stuck on that, gaze fixed on where their crotches are pressed together on the couch, and Changmin is actually quite pleased, warm around the edges.

Kyuhyun notices because of course he does, and he immediately climbs off with a sour look. “Oh, gross, of course you’d have a possession kink, Chwang,” he says, and Changmin startles, going abruptly pink.

Yunho looks away rather suddenly, turning to face Kyungjae-hyung rather desperately. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he says.

Kyungjae-hyung looks between the two of them with narrowed eyes, but nods. “Sure.” He leaves with one last distrustful glance at Changmin.

For a moment, no one says anything.

Finally, Minho sighs. “I’ll just put this back, then. Sorry, Hyung,” he tells Yunho, brandishing the Daesang and setting it back down in its rightful place. After a moment, he shifts their first Muba win trophy in front of it.

Something pleasant curls around Changmin’s belly at that.

Kyuhyun groans again. “Ugh, _Chwang_ ,” he says. “You’re like a fucking _ballad_.”

There’s a beat.

Changmin finally manages to get his mouth to form words. “I’m sorry?”

Kyuhyun waves a hand. “You’re like three seconds from throwing yourself at his feet demanding he never leave you for the autumn leaves or something. It’s terrible.”

Yunho’s mouth goes a bit tight. “You told them,” he says, and it’s not a question.

Changmin blinks back at him, confused. “Erm, yes?” he says. “Did you not want me to?”

Yunho’s jaw tightens some more, a barely noticeable muscle twitch that would be unperceivable if Changmin didn’t know him like he does. “I guess it doesn’t matter if they leave, then,” he says. And then: “I’ve thought about what you were saying, and I think you’re right.” His throat bobs around a swallow. “I’m moving out.”

The world falls out from under Changmin’s feet. “What?” he says.

Yunho seems to find strength in that, spine straightening. “You’re right. I’m almost thirty.” He winces, almost remembering something. “People might talk. My father…” He trails off, sighing. “It’s time.”

Changmin blinks a few more times. “Hyung,” he says.

Yunho continues, tone even. “I’ve discussed it with Manager-hyung-deul and they agree. Besides; haven’t you already started looking for places?”

Kyuhyun makes a startled sounding noise and gets up off the couch. “Minho-yah, we should go.”

Changmin turns to him, unimpressed. “You told Heechul-hyung,” he accuses.

Kyuhyun winces. “I kind of owe him, Changmin,” he says. “Also, you try living with the man.”

Changmin hopes the level of displeasure he feels is evident to his friend.

Kyuhyun sighs. “Look. This is obviously an important question for the two of you to have _alone_ .” He shoots Minho a meaningful look, and then darts a quick glance at Yunho. “And while you’re at it maybe you should talk about the _other things_ you need to tell each other.” Another glance, this time with a head tilt. “ _Alone_.”

Changmin’s throat goes dry. “Right,” he says. “Hyung.”

“We’ll just be going, then. Yunho-hyung, it was nice to see you,” Kyuhyun says, grabbing Minho with one hand and power walking towards their shoes with three cursory bows.

“About the friends with benefits thing,” Changmin says, before he loses his guts, at the same time Yunho says, “I think we should stop sleeping together.”

Kyuhyun trips over his own feet in his sudden haste. “Shit, fuck,” he curses under his breath, and grabs both pairs of shoes. “Goodbye, Changmin!” And then the two of them are out the door, leaving the apartment in abrupt silence.

Changmin ears are roaring. He licks his lips. “Right,” he says. “Yes--that’s what I wanted to say also.”

Yunho tilts his head a little. “Changdol?”

“I mean it makes sense,” Changmin continues, trying not to think too hard. “Since we won’t be living together, and all. People would talk.”

Yunho frowns, almost like he wants to say something more, but Changmin gets to his feet before he can do so.

“You must be tired,” he says. “I’ll just. Go be in my room.”

And then he turns on his heel and gets the fuck out of there before he says and does something stupid.

Like cry.

\--

“Okay, but this is good?” says Kyuhyun finally. “Like. You were really fucking upset you were in love with him anyway.”

Changmin feels like he’s developing a twitch. “Kyu,” he says. “Please never say that out loud again.”

Kyuhyun ignores him. “Chwang I’m still convinced that this is going to blow over and you’re going to marry him anyway, in which case I need to be the most insufferable best friend you ever had because _I told you so_. I need to practice.”

“You’re the worst,” says Changmin.

“I know but you’re worse,” says Kyuhyun. “Anyway it’s good. It means that you have space and shit. No more toothpaste wars. No more shower wars. No more tripping over shoes when we get in at five in the morning on work days.” He pauses, thinking. “Hell, we can have parties at your place and you don’t have to lie to Hyung about it if he calls. _We don’t have to mass clean up after our parties at your place even though we’re both hungover_.”

Changmin thinks at over. “Okay, true,” he says.

“Also.” Kyuhyun seems to be taking this well. “Maybe you’ll get over him this way.” He breaks off, voice going a little strained with laughter. “You know, since you’re basically in love with Yunho-hyung, and all.”

Changmin pulls the phone away from his face and glares at it. “Kyu.”

“I’m serious.” Kyuhyun says. “It’s good.”

Changmin’s lips purse. “I guess,” he admits.

There’s the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the Suju dorm, and then Kyuhyun calling out to whoever it is with a greeting.

Changmin’s eyes narrow a little. “Am I on speaker?” he starts to say.

“Anyway, you’re both basically adults anyway, isn’t it time?” Kyuhyun interrupts. “And do you really _really_ want to date Yunho-hyung?”

There’s the sound of someone falling in the background.

Changmin feels his eye twitching. “Kyu,” he says again.

“Answer the question.”

“I do really want to date Yunho-hyung,” Changmin says, with as much dignity he can manage hiding under all his covers in his bed calling his best friend while the Yunho-hyung in question sleeps off his ridiculous drama schedule in the other room. “But obviously that’s not going to happen, so I’m going to get the fuck over it by spending all my time with you and also Kang Hodong.” He lets out a breath. “You _dick_. How dare you make me get all maudlin about my feelings.”

Kyuhyun doesn’t respond. And then:

“Cho Kyuhyun,” says a voice that sounds very much like Kim Heechul. “I forgive you for everything you may have ever done to wrong me.”

Changmin debates throwing his phone across the room. “Kyu,” he says.

Kyuhyun doesn’t even sound apologetic. “Whatever, Chwang,” he says. “Just promise me you’ll stop moping everywhere.  

“I’m not fucking _moping_ ,” Changmin hisses, at the same time his door cracks open.

“Changdol-ah?” It’s Yunho, cause of course it’s Yunho--no one else lives here--and Changmin drops the phone with a barely audible squeak, scrambling across the bed for the flashlight and Hwang Seokyeong’s book.

“Yes?” He tries for casual, well aware he’s not wearing a shirt and the blanket isn’t covering him anymore.

Yunho is silent for a few seconds. “Why are you reading in the dark?”

“I read somewhere it helps with memory,” Changmin lies through his teeth, heart pounding.

His phone is still half lit up underneath him, the call to Kyuhyun still fucking connected, and now Heechul-hyung is getting a direct play by play of how fucking stupid Changmin is for Jung Yunho.

Yunho pushes the door open a little bit more, frowning. “Right.” He sounds dubious, but also like he knows better than to push. Changmin is glad that of the two of them he’s got the reputation for random bouts of knowledge and shit. “Do you.” Yunho sounds hesitant, like he’s not sure of his welcome. “Do you want me to quiz you?”

“It’s fine!” Changmin says, voice incredibly high. “I don’t want to keep you up--busy schedule, and all.” He tries to smile. “Sorry I woke you.”

Yunho stares at him for another few seconds, almost like he wants to come into the room, or something, and then he smiles back at Changmin. A fake smile. “Okay,” he says.

Changmin stares after him for a long while, heart hammering, and then fishes his phone back out.

“If you say anything you’re dead to me,” he threatens, and something must show in his voice, because Kyuhyun very smoothly turns the question back to the book without pause.

“Heechul-hyung says you should talk about the breasts thing on the show,” he says, voice purposefully light. “And I have to say. Heechul-hyung has never steered me wrong with variety.”

Changmin rolls over to stare at his ceiling, eyes also rolling, and lets the drone of his best friend lull him off to sleep.

\--

Changmin totally finished reading _The Evening Star_ , even if it took him all three days and most of those days were spent failing to retain any information and also moping at Kyuhyun’s because Yunho was actually serious about the moving out thing and had begun boxing up all his possessions and calling Changmin into his room for actual serious discussions about what to take and what to leave.

Which means when the arrives to KBS for the first day of filming he’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, having read the book, especially when Jaehoon-sunbaenim reveals he has not, and Jaehyung-sunbaenim laughingly admits the same, and Dongchul-sunbaenim says he did read the book but doesn’t remember nearly all of it.

Hodong-hyung greets everyone warmly, laughs self-deprecatingly at his Peter Pan costume, and the show goes really well, Changmin thinks.

They tell him to ditch the MC cards after the first take, because apparently he looks better on camera when he’s less engrossed on keeping to the script just so. Changmin would protest--because he knows he has a tendency to go off script in the worst ways, especially without Yunho around, but it’s his first show and he doesn’t really know the PD and everyone is waiting on him.

Of course then he ends up rambling about his first kiss and breasts, but like. It goes well, all in all.

Changmin doesn’t think about Yunho for the entire period, which is a bonus, because Kyuhyun had started preemptively bringing out the soju whenever they got together and also taken to singing dramatic love songs whenever Changmin so much as sighed a little.

All that goes straight down the drain, however, when immediately following filming, Changmin gets a text from the man himself.

 _Changdol-ah_ , it reads. _Hodong-hyung said you did well._

Changmin’s heart does a horrifying little thump thud thing that probably means not fucking Yunho for two weeks hasn’t helped with the loving Yunho thing, like Kyuhyun had said it would.

 _I did_ , he replies.

Yunho sends back the tongue face emoji. _You’re so modest, Changdol-ah_ , he says. _I’m so glad I raised you well_.

Changmin almost bristles, heart still pounding. _Yah, I raised you more like_ , he says, wishing there was a way to emphasize the word. _Hyung_.

Yunho doesn’t seem concerned by the banmal. _We raised each other?_ he says.

Changmin snorts. _Whatever you say, Hyung_.

 _I say I’m proud of you_ , replies Yunho, instantly, and Changmin sets the phone down quickly, glancing around to make sure no one’s staring at him.

Jooyoung-hyung comes up to him after a moment, carrying a water bottle and Changmin’s bag. “You ready?” he says, smiling at the staff milling about and bowing when people return eye contact.

Changmin shoots a glance over at Hodong-hyung, surrounded by the PD and lighting crew, looking over the final shots. He’s already said goodbye to everyone, bowed, smiled, laughed at his own blunders, gotten Dongchul-sunbaenim’s number and promised to see if they could collaborate sometime.

It’s still a little weird, leaving so early. Changmin’s used to bowing out at ridiculous hours with Yunho’s stomach as an excuse, or another schedule or flight calling their name.

Maybe he should stay.

His phone beeps, and when Changmin doesn’t look, Jooyoung-hyung pulls it away up to his face. “Yunho-hyung said don’t wait up,” he says. “It’s looking like he’ll miss dinner again.” His brows pull together. “He also said could you take a look at the boxes he’s left in the hall? Something about toiletries--”

Changmin tugs the phone back down to his chest, blood rushing in his ears. “Moving out stuff,” he explains, and risks a smile.

“What’s this about moving out?” says Hodong-hyung, disengaging from his crowd and coming over to drape an arm around Changmin’s shoulders.

Changmin feels small in comparison, but also weightless. Like the man’s energy is rubbing off on him. “Me?” he says, but it’s kind of a question.

Hodong-hyung lets him get away with that, patting him on the back, hard. “Ah, Yunho mentioned that,” he says. “Said he was looking for two bedrooms.”

Changmin blinks--two bedrooms?--but smiles. “Yeah, well, it’s been a long time coming.” He drags a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

Hodong-hyung laughs, loud and raucous and attracting the attention of Jaehoon-sunbaenim, he comes over as well.

“You’ll have to start dating, then,” says Hodong-hyung. “Since you’ll have the opportunity to go all the way, as you put it.”

Changmin grins, embarrassed but not really, and tries to ignore the tiny part of him that says he really doesn’t need to, thanks, since what he’s looking for already found him--wandered into a practice room and said, ‘if you’re going to quit just do it now’ while looking down its nose at him and crossing its arms.

“You’re right,” Changmin says.

\--

Yunho flies in a day later than Changmin because of filming conflicts, and he shows up to their hotel wearing jeans, a flannel, and a black jacket that’s just broad enough in the shoulders that Changmin almost can’t breathe, for a second.

He feels lighter, somehow, even though they’ve finalized the moving out officially at this point and are literally just waiting on manager and company approval to be living in separate apartments. He thinks it’s the combination of _Moonlight Prince_ and the growing into his feelings. He’d told Kyuhyun just the other day once he’d arrived at the hotel that he was at peace with being in love with Yunho, given he really didn’t think it was going to change.

Kyuhyun had been too preoccupied with Changmin’s decision to drag his Dolce coat out of the closet again to properly tease him for that.

He thinks Yunho’s lighter as well, if not a little thin-skinned over the reactions to his drama.

The older man pulls of his sunglasses, yawns like he’s exhausted, and dumps his backpack square in the center of Changmin’s hotel room.

Kyungjae-hyung follows after him, frowning a little. “You have two rooms, you know,” he points out, smiling at Changmin, who raises a hand in greeting from his place in the center of the queen bed.

Yunho yawns. “I know,” he says. “Stupid of you.”

Changmin’s heart thumps again. This is new. It does make sense, since he knows from experience it’s often times easier to just collapse in one bed after a tour date. That way only one of them has to be vaguely cognizant the journey from the venue, and they can switch off who that person is. Technically speaking they don’t need that for this show, since they’re not doing more than one date in Hong Kong, but Changmin still thinks this is progress.

Their final appointment with Huang-ssi before they jettisoned off had gone well as well.

Huang-ssi had nothing but kind words for the both of them, because apparently discovering you were in love with your bandmate meant you’d stop wanting to skin your bandmate alive for dumb things and instead wanted to marry them for dumb things. Which was scary, and Changmin had had a great number of panic attacks about that whole thing, but it did mean they’d been getting along better.

Not bothering each other by living together helped.

Although Changmin did end up spending more nights at Yunho’s than he probably should, to the point where their managers started sending cars just to his place.

Kyungjae-hyung sighs. “Yunho-yah,” he says.

Yunho hides a yawn behind his hands. “I’ll take it to mine later,” he decides. “Hyung.”

Kyungjae-hyung rolls his eyes, but kindly, and backs out of the room. “Don’t forget rehearsal,” he says as he goes. “And they’ll want you in costumes early for the press conference.”

Changmin nods, taking that in with half his attention, mostly focused on Yunho’s who’s shed the jacket and kicked off both his shoes like it’s his hotel room. He’s also stripping out the jeans without a care in the word, heedless of the less-than-impressed look Kyungjae-hyung is giving his back.

Changmin watches him pull on sweatpants without breathing.

The door closes behind Kyungjae-hyung with a barely heard click.

Yunho yawns again, and comes striding across the room. “Hey,” he says. “Budge up.” And then he flops across the bed, never mind Changmin’d been curled up across the mattress reading Kim Sooro-sunbaenim’s book choice. Its Shakespeare’s _King Lear_ , which Changmin has read once before, but Kyuhyun bet him free drinks that he couldn’t finish the original untranslated version, so.

Changmin yelps when Yunho’s elbows jab into his stomach. “Yah, Hyung,” he complains, dropping the book to his side and shifting on the bed a little to try to get comfortable.

“They made me rides horses, Changdol,” Yunho says, yawning again. “I’m so tired.”

Changmin wants to pet his hair. Changmin wants to slap him a little and demand that he explain this sudden skinship.

Instead, Changmin very gently extricates himself from the pile and leans against the headboard. “Can you even ride a horse?” he asks.

Yunho glares at him. “Yes.”

Changmin rolls his eyes, bemused. “If you say so.”

Yunho yawns again, this time for a while, and when he’s done he frowns. “I’m so _tired_.”

Changmin really, really wants to pet his hair. “Hyung.”

“Also, I need you to come to my place when we get home,” Yunho continues. “I keep buying detergent and fucking it up.” He smiles ruefully. “I think Myunghwan-hyung is going to kill me if I drag him out to a store at midnight again cause my laundry doesn’t smell right.”

Changmin blinks, feeling a flush settle high across his cheeks. “Wait. Is this why you keep smelling me?”

Yunho sits up suddenly, smiling too wide. “Rehearsals,” he says brightly. “We have to go to rehearsals. Up.” He reaches out and grabs Changmin by both hands, hauling him up off the bed, and after a pause, righting his copy of _King Lear_.

“You’re reading the English?” His brow furrows, tongue darting out between his teeth. His bangs are soft and fluffy and just a hint red from the overhead lights.

Changmin’s throat is a dessert. “Yeah.” He clears it, trying for some semblance of normalcy. “Yeah. Kyu dared me.”

Yunho’s lips press together briefly. “You’re really enjoying the show,” he says.

Changmin feels an honest smile spread across his face. “Yeah.” He glances down. They’re still holding hands. His palms feel sweaty.

Yunho lets go gently. “Good,” he says. “I’m glad.”

Changmin starts for the door, reaching for a face mask with one arm. “You’re not going to say something dumb about the army again, are you?” he says.

Yunho follows after him without his backpack. “Changdol.” He sounds amused. “Didn’t you hear our therapist? Military service is an incredibly important subject.”

Changmin rolls his eyes, pausing outside their staff’s door and knocking. “Uh-huh.”

\--

It’s hard not to fuck after a concert, Changmin will argue. There’s too much adrenaline, excitement, and euphoria involved that it’s like breathing to go from giggling with Yunho over little mistakes the dancer-hyungs had made or the banners the fans had brought to rolling around under Yunho with their mouths pressed together, hands in each other’s hair, and legs very slowly becoming intertwined.

Because it had been exhilarating. They’ve never done the Korean version of BUT before, or gone racing around that particular stage surrounded by cheering fans before, and Changmin had had a moment, briefly, when he was standing in the airplane float looking across the way at Yunho where he’d realized that this was where he wanted to be ten years from now.

So he kisses Yunho with tongue, when the older man tries to say something about it not meaning anything, and he grabs Yunho’s hands in his, when the older man tries to tickle him.

“Changmin-ah,” Yunho says, breathless and leaving burning kisses in his wake. “Wait.”

Changmin pins him more solidly against the bed, drags his hands more solidly down to cup his ass, and groans. “Yah, Hyung,” he moans, pressing his lips into Yunho’s hairline and staying there for a moment. “Stop talking.”

“I just don’t want you to feel pressured,” Yunho mumbles, but listens to Changmin anyway, bringing both hands up to tug at Changmin’s hair and pull his head down where he wants.

Changmin buries his face in Yunho’s throat and bites down.

\--

It’s a little awkward, afterwards.

No one’s too marked up, or anything, but Changmin feels a little raw, since it is the first time since the revelation, and Yunho had looked up at him with _something_ in his eyes mid orgasm, but they’ve had years of awkward.

“We’re good right?” Changmin says finally, rolling to face Yunho, only to find that the man’s fallen asleep, eyes shut snoring gently, head turned ever so slightly away from Changmin on the bed.

Changmin closes his mouth, suddenly overcome, and debates making a run for Yunho’s unused hotel room.

And then he gives himself a mental peptalk, squares his shoulders, and curls up directly across Yunho’s overgrown chest with a sigh.

“Idiot,” he mutters fondly. “You work too hard.”

\--

“So are we going to talk about it?” says Changmin the next morning, watching Yunho pull on clothes with a mildly disinterested expression.

“Nope.” Yunho sounds far too cheerful and happy for this early in the morning, especially given Changmin knows he’s got shooting later this day.

“Okay,” Changmin decides. “Are we fucking again or…?”

That seems to snap Yunho out of it, and he flushes, one hand halfway into the t-shirt from the day before. “Shut up.”

Changmin stares back at him, unimpressed. “How old are you?”

Yunho finishes pulling on yesterday’s clothes with a scowl, grabs his backpack off the floor, and makes for the door. “See you in the lobby,” he says shortly.

Changmin watches him go without moving, and then gets up with a sigh.

“I’m in love with an idiot,” he decides, and goes to call the stylists to tell them he’s awake enough for primping.

And then, when he sees his own reflection in the bathroom, texts them to bring turtlenecks.

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andddddddd the award for most failure to communicate goes to JUNG YUNHO. It was a tough race but he came out on top SPREADING THE WEALTH. 
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/160311537555/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	9. february 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Me, writing this chapter:** I HAVE NO INSPIRATION B/C CHANGMIN GOT HIS SHIT SEMI-TOGETHER  
>  **Google:** You can do intimacy exercises where you sit in the dark and hold hands and maintain eye contact  
>  **Me:** I’m listening  
>  **Google:** Also candles can be involved  
>  **Me:** …Changmin likes candles…sold
> 
> Betaed by Scar, lifesaver that she is, all other mistakes are my own. Kyuhyun got upgraded to mentionable character b/c I realized he...is prevalent throughout. Shout out to Debs, Jess, and Poppy for many cheerleading!!!!! LOVE YOU ALL ENJOY.

**nine.** _february 2013_

\--

“Are you sure Yunho-hyung isn’t just bad at relationships in general? Like. Bad at women?” says Kyuhyun, watching detachedly as Changmin scrambles around through the snow feeling very much like his fandom namesake. “Or, men,” Kyuhyun amends. “Or, I guess, since he’s never dated men before--you?”

Changmin glares at him as best he can behind the facemask, and considers shoving him off the mountain. “I’ll have you know that Yunho is _excellent_ at me-- _doing_ me--as it were,” he says, voice only slightly choppy. “You dick.”

Kyuhyun digests that for a moment, then makes a face. “Oh, gross, Chwang,” he says. “Stop telling me about your sex life.”

“I am your best friend,” says Changmin. “You are contractually obligated to listen to me whine about my sex life.” He gives up on moving and drops the snowboard to the ground. “Also my sex life’s been nonexistent since Hong Kong.”

Kyuhyun sighs. “Let’s take a picture,” he decides. “You’re terrible at this--I can’t publish a photo of you flipping me off on SNS.”

Changmin snorts. “Coward.”

Kyuhyun gestures at his manager, eyes rolling.

The man sighs, probably used to the two of them, but hands Kyuhyun his phone anyway.

Changmin tries not to look like he’s seriously considering murder.

“It makes sense.” Kyuhyun pulls away with a slight bow to his manager. “Otherwise he’s just being a dick.”

Changmin wants to say something but Changmin is also filled with regret. “Ugh, Kyu,” he whines. “I miss Yunho’s dick.”

Kyuhyun’s manager makes a choking noise to the side, fumbling Kyuhyun’s phone.

Kyuhyun makes a face. “Changmin,” he says.

“Kyuhyun,” Changmin says.

“Look--you love him,” Kyuhyun says.

Changmin raises both his eyebrows, fully aware that no one can see because of the hood covering his head.

“He loves you?” Kyuhyun waits for a response, raising his own eyebrows. He still hasn’t pulled his goggles back down.

Changmin spreads his legs a bit more in the snow and crosses his arms. “Yes,” he says.

“So why don’t you just _talk_ to him--” says Kyuhyun, and Changmin shoulders past him to grab his snowboard.

“Let’s keep going,” he says, hauling the thing off the ground and only wincing slightly at the wetness leaking in at his wrists. Fucking gloves. “You promised me fun, Cho. This hasn’t been fun, yet.”

“Yeah, well, you’re shit at snowboarding,” Kyuhyun mutters, and then something that sounds very much like, “also relationships, apparently, but given that Yunho-hyung’s basically spent an entire month filming a drama so he doesn’t have to talk about his feelings, you’re fucking made for each other.”

Changmin decides to ignore him. “Fun,” he repeats. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Kyuhyun. “You sure you don’t wanna just ski?”

Changmin narrows his eyes. “Are you calling me a coward?”

Kyuhyun swallows. “No?”

Changmin almost wishes he had his phone, just so he can document the look of pure displeasure on his best friend’s face when Changmin finishes shoving him face first into a conveniently placed snowdrift.

“You’re such a _dick_ , Shim Changmin,” says Kyuhyun, spitting out snow. “See if I ever advise you again.”

“You’re so welcome--I _am_ the best friend you’ve ever had,” says Changmin, reaching a hand out to haul his friend to his feet. “It’s so nice of you to say that--I _am_ taking time out of my incredibly busy schedule to babysit you on a mountain.”

“It’s my birthday this is _slander_ ,” says Kyuhyun. He doesn’t take Changmin’s hand, choosing instead to get to his feet with the world’s longest groan.

“Are you sure you’re not and old man yet?” Changmin asks.

“No but your boyfriend is,” retorts Kyuhyun, cheery.

“How fucking _dare you_ ,” snaps Changmin, horrified. “Yunho isn’t _old_.”

Kyuhyun raises his eyebrows. “You sure about that?” he says. “Weren't you just complaining about how you haven’t had sex since Hong Kong--?”

“That’s because he’s an idiot--not impotent!” shrieks Changmin. “You _dick_!”

Kyuhyun just snorts at him, eye bemused. “Mhmmm,” he says. “But you love him anyway so…who’s the _real_ idiot?”

Changmin opens his mouth to retort but comes up short because, well, he does love Yunho despite it all.

Kyuhyun raises his eyebrows, well aware that he’s won the argument.

Changmin clenches and unclenches his fists a few times, pointedly ignoring how his cheeks are flaming. “I’m fucking _leaving_!” he hisses finally, and shoves Kyuhyun right back into the snowdrift, for good measure.

His friend’s laughter follows him all the way back down the mountain.

\--

“We don’t really do presents, actually,” says Yunho, and smiles like they’re filming a Japanese food CF.

Changmin blinks, glances at the man out the corner of his eye, and then trains his eyes back on their therapist, who is watching them with concerned, large eyes.

“Oh?”

“Not because of an incident, or anything,” Yunho rushes to say. “We’ve just known each other for long that it would get tiresome.”

There’s a beat.

Changmin very slowly tilts his head to the side. He agrees, cause they’ve never done presents and it’s made sense because they’ve been together for so long that it would probably have started to get tedious to find something new every single year--not to mention since he’d be going first, he’d have to try to outdo Yunho, and then, when no doubt his idiotic competitive asshole of an other half saw fit to one up his one up, spend the rest of the year attempting to brainstorm for the next birthday, because he was the dongsaeng and how dare his Hyung outdo his damn gift.

But on the other hand, given the rapidly growing horror on Huang-ssi’s face, this is probably not something couples do.

“Not tiresome just--our birthdays are the same month?” Yunho tries, glancing around the room helplessly. “Changmin-ah?” He says the last bit out of the side of his mouth, more than a little annoyed. “Some help?”

Changmin turns his own food CF smile on their therapist. “We, uh. We did gifts for like six years--”

“Five,” Yunho coughs.

“ _Five_ ,” Changmin amends, wanting very much to roll his eyes. “And then we decided that we were the only gift the other needed?”

Huang-ssi seems to digest that.

“We’ll do presents this year?” Changmin lies, because, again, _being outdone as the_ dongsaeng.

“We will?”

Changmin kicks Yunho.

“I mean yes we will,” says Yunho. “Of course. Presents. I’ve already bought mine for next week. I’m sure Changmin’s already bought his for…tomorrow…even though we just decided to do it today…um…”

Changmin kicks him again, just cause. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he says, through his teeth.

Huang-sii looks incredibly apologetic. “Oh--I’m sorry--”

“No problem.” Changmin’s aware he probably looks like some sort of serial killer. “The real surprise is what it is.”

“Right. Huang-ssi writes something down, lips pursing. “Now. I know you’re going to be very busy soon--”

Changmin has a sudden urge to woop giddily because _Nissan Stadium_ and a _dome tour_.

“--So I wanted to go over some exercises you can do without me.” Huang-sii smiles, crossing her legs neatly in front of her and tucking her hair behind her ears. “It’s been a quite a few months, and I think you’re doing well enough that we can reduce our meetings, I think.”

Changmin blinks. “Oh?”

“Yep.” Huang-ssi smiles again, bright and pleased. “So, intimacy exercises.”  She gets to her feet. “Stand up.”

Changmin stands up, blinking some more.

After a minute pause, Yunho follows.

“Now, normally I’d suggest turning off the lights for this, but for the time being we can get away with just closing your eyes,” Huang-ssi says, stepping around the two of them and pushing the chairs back towards the door. “Face each other please?”

Changmin pivots his feet, heart sinking. “Um.”

Huang-ssi tilts her head, sighing. “You should probably sit down, actually,” she says. “Cross legged.”

Changmin blinks a few more times.

Yunho sinks to his knees neatly, and, after a quick glance towards Huang-ssi, does so.

Changmin copies him, heart pounding. He has a bad feeling about this. They’re probably going to have to hold hands or some sit. Touch foreheads.

“Now hold hands,” says Huang-ssi, and Changmin starts cursing his intuition.

He takes Yunho’s outstretched hands, heart _still pounding_ , and swallows rather desperately a few times. Normally he’d make some sort of joke about intimacy and couple’s, but given they’re supposed to be a couple and currently learning about intimacy exercises, that would be _way_ too close to home.

Yunho looks like he’s swallowed something sour.

“I think closer,” Huang-ssi decide, sounding decisive. “Until your knees are touching.”

Changmin follows her commands, wondering why he’s the one moving closer, and tries not to focus too hard on the heat of Yunho’s knees, pressed right up against his, and how his cock is like. Right fucking there.

They’d come straight from tour rehearsals, which meant Yunho had on sweatpants and no underwear, and Changmin was wearing leggings and running shorts. Huang-ssi hadn’t said anything, but now that they’re holding hands and sitting cross legged on the floor, the fact that Yunho is freeballing is very, very apparent.

Changmin swallows.

“Now, close your eyes,” Huang-ssi says, and Changmin is so fucking thankful.

He lets out a deep breath, heart thudding in his chest, and waits until he sees the swipe of Yunho’s eyelashes before closing his own eyes.

It’s… _incredibly_ intimate.

“Okay in ten seconds I want you to open your eyes and just look at each other,” Huang-ssi explains, sounding very much like a variety MC, and Changmin is half expecting someone to jump out from behind the piano holding an MP3 and blasting ‘Ode to My Family’ by the Cranberries. “And I’m not going to say how long you should hold eye contact--”

Changmin hears her, but he bets if they try to get up after five seconds they’re going to get very disapproving looks.

“--but the entire point of the exercise is just to be with each other in the space together and ignore everything else.”

“Right.” Changmin winces. Has his voice always sounded that high.

“Cool.” Yunho sounds a little breathless. “Um.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” says Huang-ssi.

Changmin opens his eyes, heart worrying him, and nearly bursts out laughing.

Yunho is doing no better, face contorting as he fights to keep from giggling, and after a few seconds of that, digs his nails into Changmin’s hands. “Yah,” he hisses.

Changmin squeezes right back, raising his eyebrows a little, and nearly biting through his own tongue in an effort not to giggle.

“I can see you,” Huang-ssi, says sounding bemused. “Don’t laugh.”

Changmin’s shoulders shake a little and a few helpless chuckles bumble through.

And then Yunho seems to steel himself, tugs hard on Changmin’s arms, and suddenly they’re a lot closer, legs interwoven instead of just touching, with their noses almost touching.

Changmin’s heart is full on thundering now, down a train track, across three continents, and straight into the damn sea.

Huang-ssi is saying something, surely, because it wasn’t in the instructions for anyone to be basically in anyone’s lap, but Changmin can’t really hear anything beyond his heartbeat, loud and roaring in his ears.

Yunho’s got dark circles under his eyes, and his eyebrows aren’t quite symmetrical, and he forgot to wash off the day’s make-up so his skin isn’t even, the mole on his lip standing out stark against his skin in the harsh overhead lighting, blotches of too-perfect smoothness lining around his jawline.

He looks breathtaking.

Changmin is utterly, _utterly_ fucked.

“There,” says Huang-ssi finally. “You can let go, now.”

Changmin doesn’t know how, but somehow he gets his hands to behave, his arms to pull back, and finds himself seated back in his chair nodding along to whatever else Huang-ssi has to say.

\--

“So you held hands for like five minutes,” says Minho, sounding incredibly done. “And then you promised to do it at least once a day for the next few months of tour.”

Changmin buries his face his hands to hide the blush raging across his face.

“And now, on his damn _birthday_ , you’re avoiding him.”

“We’re going out to dinner with all the staff,” Changmin says into his hands, feeling entirely out of his depth. “And before you asked, no we haven’t done the intimacy exercise thing yet today. He was really busy with filming and stuff, and I had to read the script for tomorrow.”

And the book. He’d had to read the book, and fend off text messages from both of his sisters, his mother, his _father_ , and every single celebrity friend in his considerable network because they’d aired the damn ‘I really like candle wax’ episode and apparently the fifth was mock Changmin day, or something.

Minho is silent for a long while, and is probably making an incredibly disappointed face at him.

Changmin can’t bring himself to look.

“Right.” Minho’s disapproval is audible. “And you still haven’t said anything about your feelings because?”

Changmin just groans again, feeling like his face is on fire.

“He’s a lost cause,” says Kyuhyun, voice sounding far away. “Don’t even try Minho-yah, he’s just as much of an idiot at Yunho-hyung they are _made for each other_.” He spells that last bit out, over enunciating to the point where Changmin is considering lifting his head to finally glare at him. “Chwang--your house is fucking _awesome_.”

Changmin flops more solidly against his coffee table and moans into the hardwood.

Minho sighs. “Do you need me to call Jungmyeonie?” he says. And, then, when Changmin finally lifts his head to glower at him: “Don’t look at me like that--Jongin was there and he told Taemin and Taemin still thinks all the Yunho-worship is hilarious.”

“Yeah, well, Taemin’s just smug cause he’s Yunho’s _favorite_ \--” Changmin grumbles darkly, brows pulling together into a line.

“Taemin’s a _dancer_ ,” interrupts Minho, with infinite patience. “Of course he’s Yunho’s favorite--”

“ _I’m_ a dancer,” Changmin points out, more than a little petulantly.

His friends stare back at him, faces blank.

Changmin feels himself flush even more. “Fuck off,” he says.

Kyuhyun and Minho exchange a look.

“Look it’s Yunho-hyung’s birthday,” Minho says, after a moment’s silent conversation with Kyuhyun. “It’s literally the perfect moment to do something stupid. Like fuck him.”

“Or.” Kyuhyun interrupts with an elbow to Minho’s side, coming to sit next to Changmin around the table. “You could pull your head at of your ass and _confess_.”

Changmin blinks at him.

Minho blinks at him.

Kyuhyun blinks back at them.

“Or you could stick your dick in Yunho-hyung’s ass,” Minho says finally, and then dodges the pillows the two of them chuck at him. “Ow--watch it--I’m the visual--”

\--

“Alright, but it’s your birthday,” says Changmin, and turns on the puppy dog eyes.

Yunho stares back at him, playing at unaffected, but also pointedly steps on Kyungjae-hyung’s foot when the older man snorts at him.

“Shouldn’t you be saving that for your _own_ birthday?” the man mumbles, but Changmin doesn’t have time for that.

He had to sit through three hours of food and food and more food while everyone and their mother pet Yunho or cuddled Yunho or waxed poetic about Yunho and at one point, ran dramatically into the street after Yunho because the idiot forgot his cellphone, and now that they’re both at Yunho’s car, half drunk, and filled to the brim with good food, handing his own keys off to a manager and getting in the car with Yunho seems like a brilliant idea.

“Please?” Changmin tries out a smile.

For a second he thinks Yunho might actually deny him, citing, well, it’s his birthday, but then the older man sighs, shrugs his shoulders, and nods over Changmin’s shoulder at Jooyoung-hyung.

“I’ll pick you up early tomorrow for filming,” the man says, and then pockets Changmin’s car keys with a sigh.

The rest of their staff wander off with mumblings about birthday wishes and getting too old and a few pointed remarks about unhealthy codependencies and Changmin’s damn eyes thrown in as well, but Changmin’s too pleased at the prospect of having Yunho all to himself to do much of anything.

He’d texted Kyuline in the bathroom three hours into the meal, and while there had been quite a lot of teasing and insistence that he just confess, they’d also very kindly let him know that they were the ones who’d shoved condoms into all of his jeans pockets.

Changmin thinks it’s probably lucky he wore a long coat out, since he’s wearing his clubbing jeans, and condoms are not conspicuous in the slightest. “They’ve got a distinctive shape,” Changmin explains to Yunho, who only rolls his eyes a little bit, and, after a pause, opens the back door to his car.

Kyungjae-hyung slides into the driver’s seat without pause, eyes rolling just a little.

“Mmm.” Yunho hums, very gently pushing Changmin into the car seat, and following after him. “Move.”

Changmin doesn’t really want to; Yunho’s like a furnace, all warm heat and plush thighs and it’s nice being so pressed together. He does so anyway, sliding into the middle seat with a long yawn, and then immediately drops his head onto Yunho’s shoulder.

Kyungjae-hyung make a clucking noise in the back of his throat and says _something_ which has Yunho’s shoulder’s tensing up, but Changmin’s too tired to do more than yawn some more and close his eyes. “Hyung. Thanks,” he says, when he feels fingers fiddling with the buckle of his seatbelt. “Happy Birthday.” His words slur.

Yunho’s breath poofs out somewhere around his ear.

Changmin sleeps.

\--

Changmin wakes up in time for the car to pull into the garage at Yunho’s apartment, when Kyungjae-hyung laughs suddenly and loudly and says, quite seriously, “You cannot be serious--he definitely weighs more than you.”

He’s confused, eyes bleary and heavy, but he realizes very quickly that Yunho is currently holding him bridal style, and his entire face goes up in flames. “What the fuck-- _Hyung_ ,” Changmin hisses, not even sure what to do with his hands. “Hyung _no_.”

Yunho just smiles at him innocently and plants his feet. “I think you’re lighter--did you not eat enough?” he says.

Changmin’s face goes up in even more flames for completely different reasons. “ _Hyung_!”

Kyungjae-hyung just shakes his head. “That answers the question of who's drunker,” he says, voice dry as a bone. “Yunho-yah. I’m sure Changminnie can walk.”

“Oh.” Yunho sounds actually disappointed, and it takes him a few more seconds to release Changmin’s legs down to the ground. “Okay.”

Changmin refuses to look at him, because no doubt he’s the one doing puppy dog eyes now, and the sleeping and sudden physical contact has done wonders towards sobering him up. To the point where he even wonders why he thought coming home with Yunho was a good idea.

As if reading his mind, Yunho drapes an arm around Changmin’s shoulders and starts walking the two of them off towards the elevators. “It’s my birthday,” he says. “You’re not leaving now.”

“Goodbye, Yunho, Changmin!” shouts Kyungjae-hyung, voice amused and loud in the empty garage. “See you both tomorrow--you both have filming.”

Yunho raises a hand and waves over his shoulder, pressing for the correct floor without pause. “Besides,” he says. “We haven’t done our intimacy exercises yet.”

“Right,” Changmin says, trying not to sound too breathless. “You just can’t bear to spend any less time in my presence.” He manages a grin, glancing towards Yunho’s face. “I’m amazing; I know.”

Yunho rolls his eyes at him, but smiles. “Mmm.”

Changmin tries not to shudder too much about the warm press of him as they make their way further into the building.

Yunho’s apartment is considerably more lived-in than Changmin’s, but he can’t very well give the man grief for that on his birthday, so he settles for biting his tongue and looking at the ceiling as Yunho bustles about like Changmin’s never so much as seen his dirty underwear before.

“Hyung,” he says finally, when Yunho nearly trips on one of his own socks. “It’s your house.”

Yunho settles onto the couch that Changmin’s pushed him down onto with an embarrassed sort of smile, pink dusting his cheeks.

Changmin isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the embarrassment.

“Right.” Yunho rubs at the back of his own neck. “Did you forget something?” he asks. “Is that why you wanted to come home with me?”

 _‘’  always want to come home with you_,’ Changmin doesn’t say, but barely. He closes his mouth pointedly, and sinks down onto the couch next to Yunho.

The two of them stare at the blank television for a few moments.

“Hyung,” Changmin says finally, breaking the silence, “about what you said our Anniversary--”

“We haven’t done our intimacy exercises today,” Yunho says, at the same time.

Changmin’s mouth shuts abruptly and he colors.

Yunho stares back at him, cheeks going even redder.

“Right,” Changmin says finally. “Right--yes, of course--we should--” He glances around the room helplessly for candles and finds two scented ones set haphazardly into the middle of Yunho’s coffee table. His eyes narrow. “What are those?”

“Nothing, Changdol, _nothing_ ,” Yunho says, taking both of Changmin’s hand and moving to sit cross-legged on the couch.

“Are those for _me_?” Changmin continues, taking in the mess of wrapping paper and ribbon strewn around the room suddenly.

“No!” Yunho tightens his grip on Changmin’s hand and tugs, pulling Changmin in so that they’re closer.

Changmin ends up sprawling entirely against Yunho’s chest, heart pounding, but his eyes are still stuck on the candles. “They _are_ ,” he says accusingly. “They _are_. They’re _for me_.” He has a sinking feeling, and twists to stare up at Yunho, horror spread openly across his face. “ _Hyung_ , you didn’t!”

Yunho just stares back at him sheepishly, and tries out a smile. “Surprise?” he says.

Changmin would hit him, but both of his hands are currently being held captive, so he settles for shaking their hands threateningly towards Yunho’s chest. “Yah!” he says, pushing himself up on the couch so that he’s essentially straddling Yunho now, chest to chest, knees on either side of Yunho’s hips. “Yah, _Hyung_.”

Yunho doesn’t look all that sorry. “Boa thought it would be funny?”

Changmin is never going to be able to look Boa-noona in the face ever again. “Hyung,” he protests again.

“Sorry, Changdol.” Yunho lets go of Changmin’s hands finally, so that he can pat Changmin rather awkwardly on the back a few times. “But you have to admit it was funny.”

Changmin doesn’t pout so much as scowl. “It was the editing,” he argues, fully aware that it really wasn’t. He wasn’t even lying, only, he’d had about three seconds of blissful innocence before he made eye contact with Jooyoung-hyung on the sidelines and realizes what it was he’d really said. At least Boyoung-sunbaenim had been backed him up about it, albeit it with far more decorum.

Yunho pats him the back a few more times. “I know,” he says. “And you only have yourself to blame for the gift, anyway.”

Changmin blinks down at him, head tilting to the side. “I do?”

“You’re the one who told Huang-ssi we’d do presents,” says Yunho.

This time Changmin does hit him on the chest. “I was lying,” he groans. “Hyung--don’t do presents, I didn’t get you _anything_.”

Yunho raises an eyebrow up at him. “Oh, I know,” he says, voice very dry. “Unless you sitting drunkenly in my lap is my present.”

Changmin blinks, and then glances down at where their dicks are pressed up against each other, and then, considers it. “Well, I mean…” he says, voice trailing off a little. “If you wanted.” He shifts a little on the couch, thighs tensing, and Yunho’s breath goes whistling right past Changmin’s ear.

His hands come down to grip Changmin by the hips, hard, and his brows pull down. Whatever amusement had been in the air seems to vanish, and Changmin is left with the rather distinct sense that he’s fucked up horribly.

Yunho digs his fingers in one last time, just tight enough to leave Changmin aching for real bruises, and then grabs Changmin’s hands once more.

“Two minutes,” he says, and meets Changmin’s eyes.

Changmin spends those two minutes hopelessly confused, desperately trying to get his brain to unravel and looking for any sense of emotion in Yunho’s eyes, and when they’re up, rolls to the side when Yunho nudges him without speaking.

“What--” he says.

Yunho stands wordlessly, shoulders tense.

Changmin almost expects him to leave without speaking.

“You can sleep in your room,” Yunho says finally, turning to glance at Changmin over his shoulder. “The sheets should be clean.”

“I have a room?” Changmin says, like an idiot.

Yunho’s mouth turns down at the corners. “The guestroom,” he corrects, and then he really does leave for his own room.

The door slides closed with an audible click.

Changmin stays on the couch for a long while after.

\--

“Jealousy,” Kyuhyun decides, picking delicately at the food of Changmin’s plate. “We should try jealousy, next.”

Changmin slaps at his hand with his own chopsticks, growling, and then they have a mini sword fight in the kitchen.

Minho takes the opportunity to thieve both their food, and just grins at them with his mouth full when then turn on him.

“Gross,” Changmin says, with his nose in the air. “What are you five?”

“At least I’m not into wax play,” Minho replies promptly, and dodges Changmin’s shove and receives Kyuhyun’s high five with his usual athleticism.

“I need better friends,” Changmin decides.

“You have better friends,” points out Kyuhyun, and Changmin drops his head onto his arms with a drawn-out groan, knowing full well where this is going. “Your better friend even called you on radio, after filming with you on your less than stellar show--”

Changmin flips Kyuhyun off American style, grumbling.

“--and you thought he was Jonghyunie,” Kyuhyun finishes, gleeful. He’s basically been teasing Changmin about this since the phone call aired on the radio. He’s also apparently got an alert out or something, because he’s taken to spamming the Kyuline group chat with gifs of the incident. Because the fans found the entire incident about as funny as Kyuhyun did.

There’s the sound of Minho and Kyuhyun high fiving some more, but Changmin refuses to let them know he’s rattled. He lifts his head and picks his chopsticks up again. “Better friends,” he repeats.

Kyuhyun steals more meat off his plate. “I’m serious, though,” he says. “Yunho-hyung’s probably the most possessive person I’ve met.”

Changmin blinks at him, eyes narrowed.

“Well, you’re probably the most possessive person I’ve met,” Kyuhyun concedes. “But Donghae-hyung heard from Heechul-hyung who heard from the manager-hyungs that Yunho’s definitely been moping around SM a little bit when he’s not filming because you’re off filming your thing.”

Changmin gets a little lost in the number of hyungs in that sentence. “What?” he settles for.

Kyuhyun cleans his plate, and then Changmin’s plate, and then wipes his mouth on a napkin. “Yunho-hyung’s jealous that you’re spending all this time with Kang Hodong and his friends,” he says. “We should use that.”

Changmin’s heart skips a beat.

He swallows hard, lips pursing. “That’s stupid,” he says. “We’re always together when the two of us aren’t shooting--we’ve got the _tour_ in two months--”

Kyuhyun shoots him an annoyed look. “You’re not listening, idiot,” he says. “Back me up.” He thumps Minho on the back a few times, and their younger friend sputters, barely keeping from choking on the bite he just swallowed.

The two of them wait for him, unimpressed.

“What Kyuhyun-hyung said,” Minho says finally. “Also--way to care about killing me.”

“You’re fine.” Kyuhyun reaches out to mop the side of Minho’s mouth with the napkin. “You weren’t really choking anyway.”

“Oh you would know,” teases Changmin, eyebrows lifting, and then regrets it immediately when the two of them turn to face him with identical faces of glee. “Oh come on--it wasn’t that funny--I don’t even like it that much--I was a _kid_.”

“You were a kid when you and your hyungs went swimming around in that hotel perving on the guests,” points out Minho, that traitor.

“You were a kid when you broke down crying on me because Yunho-hyung kept pushing you to dance harder and you _liked it_ ,” adds Kyuhyun.

Changmin drops his face right back down into his hands. “ _Better friends_ ,” he grumbles.

\--

Yunho doesn’t give him the candles for his birthday. Changmin likes to think that’s because the man’s learned his damn lesson, but given that he spent the entire day at SM not telling Changmin one of the EXO kids had slapped a candle sticker on his back and smirking like an utter asshole, Changmin knows that’s not it. Also, he’s been to the man’s apartment since, and he knows that Yunho’s using the thing in his bedroom, because he’d wandered in after a long day of filming once for some much needed slumber and wandered right back out with his nose wrinkled. The thing was strong, overwhelming, and strawberry scented.

Changmin’s been working really hard at not thinking about the fact that Yunho had started making a point to move the thing around his apartment whenever Changmin was over.

Kyuline, by contrast, finds the whole thing hilarious, and very kindly continued that train of thought to the conclusion of: Yunho-hyung is Changmin-proofing his apartment, _daebak_ , while Changmin frowned at them with disappointment.

Huang-ssi knows nothing of the candles, until Changmin blurts it out in the middle of their appointment, media training gone straight out of the building.

“Oh?” she says, sounding pleased that they’ve honored their not-promise to buy birthday gifts, but also confused, because candles probably seem like a weird gift for two men who’ve known each other for like eight years.

Changmin agrees.

Changmin also thinks Yunho should stop hiding a smile behind his hands and carry the damn conversation.

He coughs loudly into his own palm.

“Right, yes,” says Yunho. “I overheard Changminnie telling someone that he liked candles a lot.”

Changmin decides Yunho should keep smiling into his damn hands like the fucker he is.

“So I got him some big ones. Scented ones. For his desk and work and home.”

Changmin debates going the way of his media training because like. It would be better than whatever the hell this is.

“Changminnie really likes candles,” Yunho is saying when Changmin tunes back in. He nods emphatically and everything.

Huang-ssi remains confused, but seems to let it go. “And what did you get Yunho-ssi for his birthday?” she asks Changmin, who sits up straight without pause.

“Sex,” he says, and takes pleasure in the way Yunho immediately starts sputtering at his side, not even trying to hide his surprise. “Really filthy, fabulous sex.”

Huang-ssi stares back at him, one eyebrow raised, but a slight flush across her cheeks.

Changmin doesn’t even feel shame. There’s no point in shame. Shame is weakness. Shame is not seeing an increase in ratings on your brand new variety show just because you talk about wax play on national television. Shame is Kim Youngmin’s visible distress when he called Changmin immediately after, aghast.

Changmin is not about shame.

“I don’t know if it was _fabulous_ ,” says Yunho, who isn’t either, apparently.

Changmin doesn’t choke on his own tongue so much as double take so much as fall even more in love with the man.

Huang-ssi looks rather like she’s regretting all of her life choices. Probably mostly the contract she signed with SM, and then extended to cover most of this year’s live.

Changmin understands, but also, can’t seem to get his brain to mouth filter reengage. “Are you calling me bad in bed?” he says, joking, but also not, and meets Yunho’s eyes full on.

Yunho stares back, never one to back down from a challenge, and smirks. “I’m saying you’re not the best, shall we say.”

Changmin’s eyes narrow. “Are you trying to get into my pants, Jung?” he says, distrust oozing off of every word. “Because it’s working,” he adds.

Yunho’s pupils widen ever so slightly.

Huang-ssi loses herself in a very loud cough. “Right!” she says, voice high. “I’m very glad to hear things are going so well there! I’m assuming the intimacy exercises are helping?”

Changmin reaches out and takes Yunho’s hand. “Yep,” he says, and smiles brightly. “Wonderfully.”

Yunho grips back gently. “Uh, yeah,” he says, and he sounds a little lost.

Changmin shoots him a look, considering, but lets Huang-ssi pick the next direction of conversation.

\--

“So, you like. _Bantered_ about your sex life in therapy?” says Kyuhyun, sounding pained. “Your _non-existent_ sex life, I might add.” There’s static, the sound of cameras, and then, Kyuhyun saying, less audibly in a mix of two languages, “yes, Henry, that is how you say ‘sex life’ in Korean, never have _friends_.”

Changmin pulls away from his phone with a scowl.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” says Kyuhyun.

“My non-existent sex life?” repeats Changmin dryly, and takes great pleasure in the slightly bug-eyed look Yunho shoots him, standing awkwardly around the corner gesturing at his watch.

Their flight’s boarding.

“Right.” Kyuhyun sounds amused. “Well, I mean. At least you’re able to joke about it?”

Changmin scowls. “Forgive me if I don’t find blue balls to be funny,” he snaps.

Yunho’s eyes dip down and back up, almost like he can’t help himself.

Changmin smirks back at him like an utter tool. It’s fucking winter; he’s wearing a long damn coat; Yunho can’t see shit; Changmin knows that; _Yunho_ knows that; Yunho’s _blushing_.

Changmin’s heart skips a damn beat.

He focuses rather abruptly back on his conversation with Kyuhyun. “I stand by what I said,” his best friend is saying, over what sounds like all the Super Junior M hyungs and Henry. “Jealousy. Look. Donghae-hyung?” Kyuhyun pauses, seems to pull away from the phone again. “If you were an emotionally constipated idiot who couldn’t confess to the person you loved--even though you knew they loved you because the thing that made you realize that you loved them wasn’t the fact that you had been fucking for the past two months but was them confessing to you--wouldn’t making them jealous be the best way to get their attention?”

There’s a small pause.

Changmin hangs on the line, actually curious.

“I’m so fucking glad we’re in a foreign country,” says Kyuhyun’s manager, finally, and then, “tell Changmin goodbye--we’re _leaving_ \--”

“Bye, Chwang,” says Kyuhyun brightly. “And Donghae-hyung agrees. He looked a little like I’d started speaking Chinese preemptively but he agreed.”

And then Kyuhyun hangs up, and Changmin really needs to get on the plane to Japan, and he feels like he’s nowhere near closer to figuring out the mess that is his heart.

\--

“Okay, when I said make him jealous I didn’t mean this,” says Kyuhyun, fresh from the airport, still wearing his facemask, carrying his backpack, and standing in Changmin’s doorway.

“Hello to you too,” says Changmin, turning around and heading back into his apartment. He listens to the sound of Kyuhyun following him--the thud of his bag hitting the ground, the slick sounds of his shoes coming off, and the gentle click of his door, and sighs. “I’m on house arrest,” he adds. “Turns out male-female friendships are the thing of legend.”

Kyuhyun snorts, bemused. “Yeah, well, this makes my wedding gift for you and Yunho-hyung awkward,” he says. “I figured cutlery because you like cooking and Yunho-hyung wants to be better at cooking, but now it’s just like a jab. A jab with a spoon.”

Changmin turns around and glares at Kyuhyun, unamused. “It has been nearly nine years since my debut,” he says. “This isn’t funny.”

“You’re right--this is hilarious,” says Kyuhyun. “This is the greatest thing the world has brought me since your carrot hair.”

Changmin glares harder, unimpressed. “You said you liked my hair.”

“Yunho-hyung liked your hair,” Kyuhyun replies immediately. “I said Yunho-hyung liked your hair. And then you went and _fucked him_ \--”

“Yeah, okay,” groans Changmin, sinking down onto his couch and pulling at his hair. “Kyu I’m a mess.”

“Well, yes,” agrees Kyuhyun, coming to sit beside him. “But given the fact that Yunho-hyung just texted you he’s on his way over for intimacy exercises--you’re also an accidental genius.”

Changmin squawks, heart suddenly pounding, and sits up so fast he gets whiplash. “Ah--Kyu!” he shouts, grabbing at his head, mostly for show, but also because he’s had a headache since Kim Youngmin called him to shout.

Kyuhyun just watches him and shakes his own head like Changmin’s lint on the couch or something.

Changmin wouldn’t mind being lint on the couch. Lint on the couch couldn’t get reflected in a spoon and end up on the front page of the major websites just because the person he had food with was a girl.

Changmin would _excel_ at being lint.

“Yah.” Kyuhyun claps in his face, entirely unconcerned with how that helps Changmin’s headache not at all and actually makes him see stars. “Pull yourself together.”

Changmin glowers at him, arms crossed protectively in front of his chest. He grabs his phone back from Kyuhyun, notes Yunho did in fact say that, has a mild panic about it, and then pulls himself together. “I am put together,” he snaps, and fumbles his phone into his lap.

Kyuhyun stares at him, utterly unamused. “Mm,” he says. “I can see that.”

“You know what _fuck you_ ,” hisses Changmin, pointing at him menacingly, standing up and grabbing Kyuhyun by the arm so he can haul his unsupportive smirking ass out of his apartment. “Fuck you--you are literally the _worst friend_ \--”

“Changmin-ah.” Kyuhyun puts both hands on Changmin’s cheeks and holds. “ _Breathe_.”

Changmin stops with his mouth open on more tirade, and, after two seconds, breathes.

Kyuhyun keeps holding his face. “God, Chwang,” he says. “We really need to get you laid--you’re like a fucking toddler.”

Changmin opens his mouth again.

Kyuhyun smooshes his cheeks together again. “Seriously, it’s like you’ve never had a dating scandal before.”

Changmin frowns at him, feeling a bit like one of the Kakao friends. “Yeah, with _Minho_ ,” he argues. “Which meant all I had to do was be like ‘it was SHINee’s Minho!’ and everyone was like ‘ah yes SHINee’s Minho--our mistake--of course you’re not dating--you’re just friends’ because unlike Qiannie, Minho’s got a damn _dick_.”

Kyuhyun sighs, unimpressed. “Chwang,” he says.

“I told them to say it was me and we’re just friends,” Changmin continues, unperturbed. “Which is true. But no one’s going to believe that--”

“Chwang,” Kyuhyun says again, smooshing his face harder. “Chwang--none of that matters.”

“None of that matters--” Changmin knocks Kyuhyun’s hands off his face and grabs his friend by the face instead. “Kyu. I am a _celebrity_ my reputation is _everything_ \--”

Kyuhyun takes a step closer and stares at him, basically breathing the same air. “None of it matters because Yunho-hyung saw and got jealous and is now _on his way to your place for intimacy exercises_ which means all you have to do is _confess_ , you imbecile you are _paying_ for my honeymoon why are you this thick--”

Changmin’s door swings open. “Changdol-ah?” It’s Yunho. “Are you here?”

For one panicked moment, Changmin considers answering, and then he realizes that he’s still holding Kyuhyun’s face, standing basically on top of him, and in three seconds Yunho is going to finish taking his shoes off and _see this_.

Luckily, Kyuhyun seems to realize this around the same time, and vaults himself over the couch and out of sight without pause.

Yunho turns around literally seconds later, dragging a hand up though his bangs with a sigh. He looks tired from all the all-night shoots and international flights, bare-faced so it shows, and mole standing out stark against his too pale skin.

He looks gorgeous.

Changmin feels a little lightheaded. “Hyung!” he manages. “Hi!”

Kyuhyun makes a very obvious, very strangled noise from somewhere behind the couch.

Yunho sighs. “I know you’re there, Kyuhyun-ah,” he says, sounding amused. “Your shoes are by the door.”

Changmin glances over to see that yes, they are.

“Also your bag.”

Changmin notes that as well.

Kyuhyun stands, chagrined. “Oops,” he says. “You caught me. Let me just go finish removing all the silverware from Chwang’s apartment and I’ll be on my way.”

Changmin winces, jabs an elbow back into Kyuhyun’s side, and the brightest smile he can manage on Yunho. “ _Dick_ ,” he hisses at Kyuhyun.

“ _You love me_ ,” Kyuhyun hisses back.

“ _Do not_ ,” retorts Changmin, never one to stop. “ _Now get out of my house_.”

Kyuhyun salutes him, grinning, and then bows on his way past Yunho. “Yunho-hyung.”

Changmin growls at him, snatching half-heartedly after him and feinting forward.

Kyuhyun just grins some more and collects his things.

And then it’s just Changmin and Yunho, all alone in his bachelor pad.

Changmin swallows, suddenly nervous, but not quite sure why.

“Are you dating her?” says Yunho, at the same time Changmin’s mouth opens, and Changmin’s brain whirs to a sudden halt.

“Am I what?” he says.

“Are you dating her?” Yunho repeats, over enunciating and looking like this is the last conversation he wants to be having, but also like he really wants to know. Like he really _doesn’t know_ , and Changmin is all of a sudden annoyed.

“When exactly would I have had the time to start dating her?” he points out, wanting very much to cross his arms but remembering very much how Huang-ssi had said that that would only escalate things before they’ve had a chance to calm down. “Like when exactly, given until very recently the only one I was seeing was you.”

Yunho’s jaw clenches, and _he_ crosses his arms.

And wow, that really does escalate things, cause now Changmin wants to cross his arms in response, and maybe step in closer so that he can really use his height to his advantage, since Yunho’s just in socks.

“I really wish you’d stop making fun of me, Changmin-ah,” says Yunho, and his voice is careful and level but Changmin bristles all the same.

“I’m making fun of you?” he says. “You’re literally standing in my house asking me if I’m dating Qian because of some dumb photo of _soup_.”

Yunho doesn’t back down, jaw tightening. “I know you don’t feel the same,” he says, words measured. “But I would really appreciate it if you’d stop making a big deal of it.”

Changmin blinks, honestly confused. “What?” he says, feeling the wind start to shriek out of his sails. “Wait, what--”

Yunho meets his eyes full on, looking determined. “I know you don’t think about me that way,” he explains in clipped, accented tones. “But I would really appreciate it if you’d stop acting like it’s all just a joke. I promise I’ll get over it.”

Changmin has absolutely no idea what is going on. “Wait. Wait. What--don’t think of you _what_ way?” he says, only Yunho is sighing, looking exhausted, and fucking reaching out to ruffles Changmin’s hair.

“Changdol-ah,” he says. “Please? I’m tired of tiptoeing around you.”

“But I’m not dating her,” Changmin blurts, heart doing hopscotch somewhere near his throat. “I’m not-- _Hyung_ \--”

Yunho just sighs, pats him on the head one more time, and walks right back out Changmin’s door without even doing his laces up.

“What just happened?” says Changmin.

\--

“You are literally the stupidest person I have ever met,” says Kyuhyun, and throws Changmin a pair of sunglasses. “Wear these so you look less like your entire world shattered and go fucking _talk_ to him you dick.”

Changmin frowns at him, puts the sunglasses on, and then, because he’s actually not the one who’s fucked up, looks Kyuhyun straight in the eye and says, “No. He’s the one who should talk to me.” Like. Yunho apparently thinks Changmin’s the sort of person who would totally continue to try to sleep with someone even if he knew they had feelings for him without having feelings for them in return.

Evidently Yunho is an _idiot_.

Evidently.

Changmin’s so glad they’re taking the same car to the airport because they can get the intimacy exercises out of the way before they film Sukkiri. Or maybe on the plane. Or maybe, _maybe_ , they can just skip a day because fuck intimacy. Changmin doesn’t want to be intimate with Yunho _anyway_.

He says as much to Kyuhyun, arms crossed across his chest.

His friend throws his hands up in despair. “Fine,” he says. “Chwang you’re shooting yourself in the foot--”

“I think you’ll find it’s Yunho who did that, actually,” says Changmin, with all the dignity he can manage, and tosses his keys over his shoulder at Kyuhyun. “Lock up when I’m gone.”

He keeps the sunglasses on all the way to the airport, whines his way into the front seat of the van, and pointedly ignores Yunho all the way into Tokyo.

\--

tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the award for most emotionally stunted RETURNS TO SHIM CHANGMIN SHIM CHANGMIN COME CLAIM YOUR REWARD YOU HAVE REGAINED YOUR HONOR AND SHOVED YUNHO STEADILY OUT OF THE FIRST PLACE SPOT.
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/160552815890/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) ||[Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	10. march/april 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And…THE END IS HERE. Plus Epilogue, this is the end of the journey I’m so happy you all came with me. Scar is the best she edited this so quickly and withstood my attempts to get her to gif Yunho as a dog. All other mistakes are my own.

**ten.** _march/april 2013_

\--

The loss on _Sukkiri_ and the plane ride back is enough to temper everything out, and by the time the media are reporting on _Moonlight Prince’s_ cancellation Changmin’s well on his way to mostly feeling sorry for himself. He’s even gone so far as to mention to Kyuhyun and Minho that _maybe_ \--just _maybe_ \--he could have saved himself all the stress and blue balls by simply confessing his feelings, but given that even knowing that he still feels like breaking out in hives just thinking about it, he’s nowhere closer to doing so.

Yunho invites himself home to Changmin’s when the news breaks, texts Hodong-hyung and everyone as needed, turns off Changmin’s phone, pulls out the wine, and very kindly unplugs Changmin’s television.

It’s nice, like they haven’t had in ages, and for a while Changmin just drinks in silence, content to listen to Yunho’s breathing.

Finally, he sighs. “How am I supposed to do the final filming?” He stares morosely down at his glass, swirls it’s content around a few times, and then sets the flute down on his coffee table.

Yunho hadn’t bothered with coasters, which Changmin thinks he’ll be annoyed about once he’s sober the next morning, but right now he’s just kind of sad.

And tired. Drinking always makes him sleepy.

Yunho doesn’t even bother to hide his own yawn, face gone faintly pink, even though he’s barely had half a glass. “Like you always do--one-hundred-and-ten percent,” Yunho says.

Changmin feels his own cheeks warm in response. “Hyung,” he says, helpless.

Yunho yawns again. “You’re the best thing about that show, Changdol-ah,” he says. And then, after a moment, “don’t tell Hodong-hyung I said that.”

Changmin mimes texting, a grin spreading across his face. “Too late,” he says. “Telling him immediately.”

Yunho squints at him, lips turned down. “Changdol,” he says.

Changmin feels his heart start to dance again, and swallows. “Yunho,” he replies.

“But I’m serious,” Yunho says, suddenly looking it. He sets down his own glass and scooches closer to Changmin on the couch, dropping one too-warm palm across Changmin’s thigh and patting it. “You do your best--because you always do--and you go out with a bang.” He mimes a gun, complete with sound effect, but somehow manages to keep groping Changmin’s leg as well.

Changmin swallows, and decides to cut them both off. “Right,” he says.

“Besides.” Yunho is still touching him. “There’s no way they’re not gonna bring you back. Hodong-hyung told me you’ve got real potential. Something about your tongue.”

Changmin feels a smile bloom across his face. “I hope so,” he says.

“I know so,” Yunho says, completely seriously and then yawns again. “I’m so _tired_ , Changdol, take me to bed?”

And--

Changmin swallows.

Yunho’s cheeks flame.

The clock ticks forward.

“Yeah,” Changmin says finally, and helps Yunho to his feet. “Let me just go make up your room.” He sets Yunho down on the couch, fights the urge to mess with his bangs, and heads off.

“You mean the guest room,” Yunho says, after him, head bowed so that Changmin can’t meet his eyes when he looks back.

There’s another moment of silence. “No,” Changmin says finally, letting out a long breath. “I mean your room.”

He turns around and leaves before Yunho can see his face.

\--

“You know, I was thinking,” says Kyungjae-hyung, staring at the two of them with his lips pursed together. “You don’t really need therapy anymore, do you?”

They’re standing in the hallway outside Huang-ssi’s makeshift office, grouped together just around the corner from the door, waiting for the clock to strike the appropriate time like thieves.

Yunho’s got his arms crossed, mouth hard, and feet tapping--Huang-ssi is late, Yunho’s got filming scheduled constantly this week, and Changmin had gotten into a truly pointless argument with him in the car on the way over. He doesn’t even really know why he’d done it, if only to get a reaction and try to get some of the nervous energy out. He’s got his last day of filming in three days and he’s _anxious._

And now he’s just sort of gaping, staring at Kyungjae-hyung blankly feeling like the grounds dropped out from under him, but also trying to figure out _why_ he feels that way. By all means, this should be a relief. This was the goal months ago, when they got wrangled into it in the first place, but suddenly the meetings stopped being funny and a hassle and started actually being useful, if the fact that they’d lied about the start of the relationship--or, not relationship, Changmin concedes, wincing, tryst, more like--meant they hadn’t _really_ been able to hash anything out.

But he’s not going to lie and pretend it hasn’t been nice, knowing that for one hour every week Yunho would be forced to sit next to him and smile with him and play along with him. Changmin really doesn’t want to lose that. Which, thinking on it, isn’t exactly the most rational feeling, since they’re about to be stuck at the hip for the live tour. Even though it was looking very much like Changmin would be juggling another variety show alongside that.

When Changmin checks back in, Kyungjae-hyung and Yunho it seems have had a full conversation without him. They’re not meeting each other’s eyes, but Kyungjae-hyung is smirking, and Yunho is faintly tinged pink.

Changmin blinks a few times. “Why would you say that?” he says.

He can see the moment Yunho’s manager sighs, brain tracking neatly back to where Changmin had spaced out instantly, and feels a grin quirking the corners of his mouth.

Kyungjae-hyung just shakes his head at him, bemused. “Well, given that the solution to your problems was apparently casual sex--”

“We’re not doing that anymore, though,” Changmin blurts out, with a quick glance at Yunho, who for a second he thinks looks hurt, but then seems to widen his eyes like, ‘exactly what I was saying.’

Probably he was saying that, when Changmin was busy having an emotional crisis about losing his mandated one hour session with Yunho’s undivided attention.

He swallows. “I mean we uh. Agreed to stop?” His voice goes very high at the end, head tilting, and he feels rather like a child.

Kyungjae-hyung darts a glance between the two of them, eye narrowed. “Oh?” The man looks like he can’t decide between being ecstatic or worried about this piece of news.

“I mean not really agreed, I guess,” Changmin rushes to say, and then, horrified, shoots Yunho another quick glance.

The older man is staring back at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, and Changmin laughs nervously and grabs him by the hand, sliding their palms together neatly and trying not to think about how he’s suddenly sweating.

“I just mean you guys hired Huang-ssi for the full year, yeah?” says Changmin, voice still high. “So let’s stick with that!” He keeps gripping Yunho’s hand, not really sure what he’s going for with that, but too afraid to look at Yunho or let go.

Kyungjae-hyung seems to have zeroed in on that point of contact, and his eyes narrow. “She was very expensive,” he says, not sounding completely convinced, but Changmin latches onto that anyway.

“Right so we should keep seeing her until at least June!” he says, and then, blessedly, Huang-ssi opens the door to call them both in.

Changmin keeps smiling, fake as you like, and hauls Yunho into the room behind him, still holding tightly onto his hand.

“Sorry about that,” says Huang-ssi, sounding it, as she bustles about removing her outerwear and settling into her seat by the piano.

Changmin notes she’s without the pad and paper this time, but also that his and Yunho’s chairs are pushed to the side of the room. Probably he should let go of Yunho so they can go collect them, but Yunho’s finally started to hold his hand back, gently and with the slightest amount of pressure, so Changmin just breathes and rearranges their hands so their fingers interlock more comfortably.

“Sorry,” he says, when he notices Huang-ssi watching them. “Intimacy exercises.”

Yunho sucks in a great gulp of air, fingers clenching, and pulls away without any warning. “Yep,” he says, voice tight, and grabs his chair, not meeting Changmin’s eyes.

Changmin stares at his back, hand still awkwardly stuck out in front of him, and almost takes two shuddering steps after him, before Huang-ssi coughs gently.

“Sorry,” Changmin says again, and goes to grab his own seat.

“So how have the exercises been going?” is the first thing Huang-ssi wants to know, once the two of them are properly seated in their respective chairs and staring back at her with equally expressionless faces.

She’s produced a pad and paper from somewhere, and is scribbling away as she waits, so most of Changmin and Yunho’s frantic nonverbal communication goes over her head. Literally.

Finally, when it’s clear that Yunho really is not going to take the lead, Changmin sighs.

“I think okay,” he says, voice smaller than he would ever want. “I think it’s helping.”

Yunho’s lips twist like he wants to say something, but he keeps silent.

Changmin is getting the feeling that that’s going to be the theme for today’s conversation. He sighs again. “I do,” he says. “I think it’s nice to just exist together without all the busy.” He feels a blush settle high on his cheeks before he’s finished speaking, but it’s true, and he does like it, and so he meets Yunho’s eyes, completely unabashed.

Yunho’s face is open for a moment, before it twists into something pained and confused, and Changmin has to look away before he bites his own tongue off in the effort not to just shout out his own feelings immediately.

Kyuhyun and Minho and everyone were _right_. Changmin is the stupidest person in the entire world.

“That’s good,” says Huang-ssi, sounding pleased. “Now, is there anything that you’d like to talk about in particular?”

There is, but they _can’t_ , not without having to explain the entire confounded situation, and not without possibly risking giving their entire staff more premature grey hairs, so Changmin steeples his hands on his lap and smiles. “Not really, no.”

Yunho nods, face an impossible mask again.

Huang-ssi hums, almost like she doesn’t buy it, and then asks them to wax poetic about each other again.

And Changmin. Changmin fucking. _Waxes_.

And then falls farther, fully aware his entire heart is flashing straight across his face, when Yunho breaks down into undignified giggles because he’s thought the same thing--about waxing poetically, and wax, and then candle wax, and then, as usual, Changmin’s unfortunate little slip up from an _entire month ago_.

Changmin isn’t just the stupidest person on the planet. Changmin deserves a fucking Darwin award.

\--

“Well, I guess it’s good that you’re self-aware?” says Kyuhyun, heaving a long sigh into the phone later that night. “I mean I won’t lie. I wanted to throw you into the Han River last time I saw you.”

Changmin sighs into his own pillow, miserable. “Kyu.”

“Literally just _tell_ him, Changmin,” says Kyuhyun. “And then kiss him so he can’t say something equally stupid--don’t look at me like that he’s not off the hook for thinking you’d just sleep with someone in love with you casually like some sort of utter ass--”

Changmin inclines his head, conceding the point, and very suddenly remembering what started the whole argument in the first place.

“--but fucking _tell_ him.”

“We’re both really busy, though,” Changmin says. And then: “I don’t want to distract him from his drama.”

“Chwang.” Kyuhyun sounds strained. “We both know how his drama is going.”

Changmin winces, mouth pulled down at the corners. “Kyu,” he says.

“Besides you’ve got the tour--is he really going to keep filming during the tour?”

“I might keep filming during the tour,” Changmin points out, feeling kind of like an asshole, but also not fully able not to agree.

He’d been privy to the more than awkward talks Yunho’s started having with SM and SBS about how he wants his character arc to end. It’s sort of given, because filming a variety show during a live tour is one thing, but filming a drama Changmin knows is an entirely different thing.

Kyuhyun says as much, tone diplomatic.

Changmin sighs, fully aware he’s being a bit insufferable about this topic.

“Sorry,” says Kyuhyun. “Look, Changmin--”

“I just want him to talk to me,” whines out Changmin, rolling onto his back and staring hard at the ceiling of his bed. “But we don’t live together anymore and we’re not sleeping together so I have no excuse to always be with him and now I’m going to be busy with sports all the time.”

“Oh--so you’re definitely doing that?”

Changmin makes a face, frowning. “Yeah, Hodong-hyung has basically said we can make it work with the tour--I’m just waiting for the final agreement and then fan announcement--I don’t think they’ve even told the fans the show’s happening.”

“Cool.” Kyuhyun sounds happy for him, but also unwilling to let the topic change. “Changmin.”

“Sorry.” Changmin drops a hand over his face and sighs, loud and long. “I’m being annoying.”

“Well,” says Kyuhyun, voice long and drawn out. “Yes, but you’re in love so.” His friend audibly shrugs. “You’re still an idiot, though.”

Changmin sighs, breath puffing against his palm. “I think I’m _scared_.”

There’s a short pause, and then the sound of muffled laughter.

Changmin growls, lifting his hand off his mouth, and sitting up suddenly. “Yah, Cho Kyuhyun, shut up,” he snaps, face flaming, and debates flinging the phone across the room. “I’m trying to be serious--”

“No, I know, it’s just. You sound so _serious_ ,” says Kyuhyun, voice strained but not brimming with giggles. “Like. Changmin. _I know_. Everyone knows. Heechul-hyung’s taken to shaking his head at the mere sight of you whenever we watch your show.”

“You watch my show?” Changmin hates how tiny his voice sounds.

“Of course, we watch your show.” Kyuhyun sounds amused. “Changmin.”

Changmin flops back across the bed with a drawn-out groan, mouth turned down.

“Look, when’s the next time you see him?”

Changmin mulls that over. “We have to go to Japan for some last-minute stuff in a few days,” he says. “But then I have to film and he has to film and I think they booked me for some Japanese award show. And a movie premiere. And then like. Practice. Lots of practice.”

Kyuhyun pauses, and then says, voice shrewd, “You’re going to use your schedule as an excuse, aren’t you?”

Changmin is silent for a long moment. “… No?” he says, and Kyuhyun hangs up on him mid syllable.

\--

Changmin’s totally using their schedule as an excuse. But, more than that, Yunho is using their schedule as an excuse. He’d very suddenly started throwing himself into filming towards the end, not that he hadn’t been before, but now that he’d committed to leaving mid-show--and Changmin wants to say things about that but he’s afraid if he tried he’d end up aggressively snarling at the older man and then, even more worryingly, aggressively _cuddling_ the older man--he’d been putting in longer and harder hours.

And then after that, he’d just turned himself right over to tour prep.

They’re still running quick rehearsals for the Korean live, alongside suddenly grueling Japanese practice, which Changmin will never get used to, because they’re not in Japan for most of it. They’re not finalizing anything without Sam-san, of course, nor are they flying the Toho dancers in, but Yunho’s already got that look in his eye whenever they’re near SM or each other, and while part of Changmin is still trained to either fight or fuck him when he looks like that, he goes through the dances anyway.

They see Huang-ssi twice in that interim, and both times Changmin leaves the practice room feeling apologetic and rubbed raw, but Kyungjae-hyung hasn’t brought up ending their sessions anytime soon, so either something is going incredibly right or incredibly wrong.

And then KBS decides Changmin should get a new look for _Cool Kiz On the Block_ , and SM has to weigh in, and then Avex, because, the live, and Changmin gets hauled through even more meetings _without_ Yunho as a buffer.

It leaves him stir crazy and itching for a fight when they meet at Incheon, hair freshly dyed, sunglasses already primed for the flashbulbs (even though it’s night).

Yunho looks soft and laid back in a black v-neck sweater with glasses and a beanie, but he doesn’t talk to Changmin, just nods, and doesn’t smile through the photo barrage, and goes where directed.

Changmin darts his eyes down his body, brows pulling behind his shades, and audibly snorts once they’re through TSA and waiting in the lounge to board their flight.

Yunho doesn’t look up from his phone next to him, but his head cocks anyway, even though he’s got headphones in.

Changmin feels warm inside. “What the hell is around your waist?” he says, voice quiet.

Some of their staff are sleeping, nodded off in the brief moments of downtime before the flight and then the prep for the event. The time difference means they’re only sleeping on the plane, and five hours isn’t enough even if you’re not on thousands of feet in the air.

Yunho glances down at his own stomach like he can’t help it, and actually flushes a little. “My stylists picked it out,” he says, voice low to match Changmin’s. “She said it was a statement.”

Changmin drops his sunglasses down his nose a little. “She said gold studs were a statement?” he repeats. “And what’s with the glasses--are you advertising the age thing now?”

Yunho glares at him for that. “The fans love me in glasses,” he says. “I picked these out myself.”

Changmin would rather die than let anyone know, but Yunho in glasses is unfairly adorable. Combined with the soft t-shirt, the ripped jeans, and the beanie, he’s really giving off a college student feeling, which is doing _something_ to Changmin.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “You already look ancient next to me, anyway.” He flips his hair a little. “I always look young natural.”

“You always look young _period_ ,” says Yunho, but he sounds a little appreciative under all the bluster. “And I am not old.”

“Ancient,” repeats Changmin, unbothered. “We should make sure Missha has a cane on standby in case you can’t make it up to the podium.”

“Yah, Shim Changmin,” says Yunho, but he’s smiling earnestly now, and swats playfully at Changmin’s chest.

Changmin squawks, waking Kyungjae-hyung behind Yunho, and slaps both hands over his nipples, unable to stop himself because of that smile.

Yunho just shakes his head at him, bemused, and shifts in his seat a little so that their legs are almost touching. “Baby,” he says.

Changmin blushes, pleased as can be, and tries desperately to save face.  “I know but only because you’re ancient.”

Yunho smirks at him, no longer offended, and the lazy grin combined with the damn glasses has Changmin suddenly _breathless_.

The urge to fight Yunho is gone, dwarfed suddenly with other urges, familiar, burning, mile high club type urges, yes, but also softer urges, things that make Changmin think of tolerating toothpaste discrepancies and water bottle casualties and whatever else Yunho throws at him.

He wants to hide from those urges, like he’s been doing for the better half of the month, but he grits his teeth and meets Yunho’s eyes, sunglasses doing nothing to keep Yunho from seeing _all of him_.

Yunho’s mouth parts, eyes flashing with _something_ , and he looks like he’s going to say that _something_ \--

And then their flight starts boarding.

\--

“I mean you’re still a complete idiot but maybe now I guess I’d say you’re _less_ of an idiot?” says Kyuhyun, sounding incredibly put upon and exhausted. “Also--thank you for asking. The show went great and I’m _fine_ even though I fell--”

“That literally makes no sense--how can I be a complete idiot but also _less_ than an idiot? Are you sure you’re a math genius--?”

“No I didn’t stab anyone’s eyes out with my Loki horns,” interrupts Kyuhyun. “I mean I wanted to, but the ocean sort of kept me from reaching you--I tried though, Chwang, I tried--”

“Yeah, yeah I’m hanging up,” says Changmin, and does so.

\--

The situation comes to a head at the worst time. They’re only back for their appointment, so they literally have one day in Korea before they’re due back to Japan, which means that heading to one person’s house-- _Yunho’s place_ \--is just practical, but they’d gotten into another steely argument somewhere in the middle of the ocean, and no amount of discussion, hand holding, or Huang-ssi’s calming presence could fix, and now they’re just. Not talking to each other even as they silently agree to ask Kyungjae-hyung to tell Driver-nim to take them to Yunho’s.

Yunho does the talking, because Yunho usually does the talking whenever they’re angry, and Changmin is fine with that, because Yunho’s not going to say anything he wouldn’t say. Even though something in him still rankles at being spoken for, and he ends up feeling even more twisted into knots.

Yunho’s unnecessarily cordial with everyone in the van with them. He talks to everyone, smiles, laughs, jokes, and spends an inordinate amount of time thanking and saying goodbye when they’ve arrived, which is ridiculous, given Changmin’s pretty much conceded to not changing clothes for the flight tomorrow--given he’s been dropped at Yunho’s place without any change of clothes.

So by the time they’re being left alone in Yunho’s apartment, Changmin has had enough of it all.

Yunho takes one look at his face, sets his jaw, and says, voice clear as a bell in the too quiet apartment: “We should fuck.”

“Absolutely,” says Changmin, and then, “Wait what?”

“We should fuck,” Yunho repeats, pointedly meeting his eyes.

Changmin stares back at him. He’s not going to lie. That would probably help. His entire body is practically thrumming with it, arousal pooling thick in his belly and making his knees start to wobble, although that could also be the exhaustion of all the flights and work--

But this would. This is a _bad_ idea. “Hyung,” he says, somewhat helplessly.

Yunho’s lips twist into something unpleasant, teeth bared, and he steps back away from Changmin like he’s been burned. “Oh I see,” he says. “Not as fun when you’re not the one suggesting it?”

Changmin’s lips pull up into his own snarl, heart hammering. “Are you still on about that?” he snaps, fully aware he’s making things worse, but unable to fucking _help_ himself. “You really think I’d go around sleeping with you even though I know you’re _in love with me_ \--That I’d fucking take advantage of your feelings--”

Yunho laughs, ugly and too loud and with his whole body, head thrown back and shoulders shaking, but he doesn’t close his eyes all the way, and he’s still stepping farther and farther from Changmin, so it’s all for damn show. “Right, rub it in,” he says, voice rasping with anger and something else. “ _Rub it_ in, Changmin--”

“Shut up!” snaps Changmin, without words. “Fuck. Hyung, I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, we’re flying in _hours_ \--”

“Right, of course.” Yunho’s gone closed now, cold and withdrawn and almost to his bedroom. “We should get some sleep.”

“ _Yunho-yah_!” Changmin snarls, beyond himself and ready to leap across the room with his metaphorical claws out, cheeks flaming.

Yunho just meets his eyes, cold as you like, and steps into his bedroom.

The door fucking _locks_.

\--

 _yah you look like utter shit_ , texts Kyuhyun, when Changmin’s halfway to Tokyo. _what the hell happened?_

 _yunho-hyung’s an idiot_ , replies Changmin, hat pulled low over his face.

 _ah_ , says Kyuhyun.

 _hyung. i really think you should just confess_ , pipes in Minho.

 _like that’ll happen_ , retorts Kyuhyun.

 _fair point_ , concedes Minho.

 _but chwang it’ll be okay promise_ , Kyuhyun says finally. _don’t be scared of yunho-hyung he’s yunho-hyung_.

Changmin snorts, bemused. Yunho is _terrifying_. But also:

 _I’m not scared_ , he types out, fingers careful and pointed, even though his friends can’t see.

\--

“Changmin I’m sorry,” says Yunho, in a rush, as they come off stage with sweat lining their shirts and spring in their steps. “I’m sorry I--I don’t think you’re the type of person who’d sleep with someone--with _me_ , even though you knew I had feelings for you.”

Changmin blinks, more than a little confused, but absolutely buzzing with adrenaline and endorphins.

One of their staff had stepped up with one water bottle for the both of them instantly, and the man physically stumbles when Yunho gets to the part about sleeping with him, but recovers rather quickly when Changmin turns unimpressed eyes on him.

He takes both water bottles from him, smiles, and hands the bottle to Yunho.

He puts his mouth all over it, gulping it down like he’s dying, as they’re being ushered off to strip out of their stage clothes so they can pack up and go home. They have a flight to catch the next morning, after all. Tokyo awaits.

“Changdol-ah.” Yunho pulls off the water bottle with a gasp of Changmin’s name, and something warm settles deep into Changmin’s belly.

He hisses, cheeks flushed for a completely different reason, and takes the bottle without comment.

“Oh, sorry,” Yunho says, looking actually apologetic, as Changmin goes to take a sip. “I’ll remember next time, promise--”

And Changmin puts his mouth on the thing, stares Yunho straight in the eyes, and swallows, uncaring.

His throat bobs, sweat dripping from his hair into his eyes making him blind, but he swears he can make out Yunho’s own throat swallowing, and he draws back from the water to smirk a little as Yunho calls for his own water bottle.

Changmin flips the one in his hand around, notes it says ‘Yunho’ not ‘Changmin,’ and decides not to mention it.

“I mean it,” Yunho repeats, on the way to the airport, freshly dressed and showered and smelling like Changmin’s body wash, because they’d shared a hotel room out of ease, and even after all these years Yunho’s still terrible at remembering toiletries and learning how to use the damn hotel stuff like a normal person. “I’m really sorry, Changmin.”

Changmin tugs his coat more firmly around himself, thankful for the sunglasses and low lighting, but cursing the fact that he’s wearing one of the tightest pairs of jeans he owns. It really wasn’t his fault or anything--these are his go-to airport clothes, since he’s had them for literal years, and they’re so fucking soft it’s like wearing the sweatpants their stylists would rather die than let him wear.

Yunho’s still looking at him, mouth downturned, eyes sad, and Changmin really fucking hates him.

“You are so lucky I love you, Jung Yunho,” he snaps, and then pointedly puts his headphones in.

He watches Yunho out of the corner of his eye anyway, mostly for reaction, and tries not to smile when he sees the moment the older man realizes what it is exactly that Changmin’s said.

Yunho goes pink, smiles like he can’t help it, and knocks their legs together in the airplane seats.

Changmin just turns up the volume on his music and tries not to startle too much when Yunho plops his head down on his shoulder to take a quick nap.

\--

“So--to be clear--you _love_ me?” says Yunho, in between kisses, as Changmin walks him backwards through their Tokyo apartment in search of a vertical surface.

They’re done with schedules for today, having wrapped both of their _Time_ events on schedule, and even though they’ve got things to do tomorrow and then Osaka the day after--and some stuff for Hapikiru, Changmin thinks, with half of his brain--none of that as important as getting into Yunho’s stupidly tight leather trousers.

“Have you gained weight?” blurts Changmin, one hand working at the zip and the other wrapped around Yunho’s ass like a claw. “I mean--shit that was bad. That was bad--I’m sorry--your thighs are just. Really nice.”

He pulls his hands away and steps back, lacing his palms together in front of his aching erection and just sort of pouts at Yunho, apologetic. He’s fully aware what he looks like, mouth swollen, hair arry, and frowning like they’ve been asked to do ageyo, but the startled, brilliant laugh it startles out of Yunho is entirely worth it.

“Changdol-ah,” he says, joy evident in every syllable. “What are you even _talking about_ \--come _here_.”

“Sorry,” Changmin repeats, grinning now, and steps back in to kiss him again. And then he pulls back, mouth inches away from Yunho’s. “But to answer your question: yes.” He smiles. “Now can we fuck, please? It’s been months.”

Yunho’s mouth curves up like he can’t help it, even as he practically purrs, reaching out to drag Changmin in close for proper kisses. With tongue, and teeth, and just enough bite to leave Changmin gasping.

“Who’s fault is that, though?”

“Mine.” Changmin’s not too proud for that. Not with Yunho’s thigh working its way between his legs, and Yunho’s hands divesting him of the mesh thing. “Just rip it. Hyung, just rip it,” Changmin gasps between kisses, not even ashamed of the high pitched noises he keeps making in between words.

“It’s a shirt--there’s a neck hole I just need to--Changdol stop fucking groping me and help me--”

“Rip it, Hyung, please, I can’t,” says Changmin, and then goes utterly breathless when Yunho does, gently, and accidentally and not at all in a way that helps get it off. Actually, probably it was Changmin’s fault, since Changmin was the one too busy petting Yunho and mumbling about how they were wearing too many clothes instead of helping Yunho actually divest them of said clothes. “Oops,” Changmin says.

“Changdol.” Yunho sound incredible displeased, their stylists are never going to let them take home clothes because it’s late _ever again_ , and Changmin doesn’t even care.

Not when Yunho’s thighs look like _death_ wrapped in leather, and not when Yunho’s chest looks delicious in the white t-shirt all striped over with black horizontal. Line things. Or. Whatever. Changmin doesn’t understand what this outfit is besides a throwback to those horrible 711 stuff they did ages ago but he doesn’t fucking care.

Changmin’s going to burn all of Yunho’s pants and replace them with leather ones. And maybe v-necks, because v-necks are fabulous, especially because it makes it easy for Changmin to slide two palms up under the hem to press against Yunho’s heart and…not his heart.

“Changmin-ah, what?” gasps Yunho, pulling back from Changmin’s mouth. “What are you talking about.”

“You’re very bad for my filter,” says Changmin quickly, panting a little, and then gives Yunho’s chest a quick squeeze because he can’t help himself.

Yunho gasps, eyes going dark, and grabs Changmin by both wrists rather abruptly. “Off,” he says, and then goes to town on Changmin’s buttons, tongue poking out from between his teeth as he does so.

Changmin admires him for a few moments, heart singing, before he smirks and says, when Yunho’s somewhere around his bellybutton and doing quite well, “So to be clear--you understand that I wasn’t trying to get into your pants on your birthday just to get into your pants, yes?”

Yunho fumbles a button, stumbles forward, and grabs Changmin by the bicep to steady himself. He’s blushing now, two splotches of color high on his face, but he meets Changmin’s eyes anyway. “Changdol- _ah_.”

“I’m just clarifying.” Changmin raises both hands in a gesture of innocence, and then swiftly undoes his cuffs. “I’m all about clarity.”

“I’ll show you _clarity_ ,” grumbles Yunho, and drags the mess of Changmin’s two shirts up and around his neck. He fails entirely at getting the things off, leaving Changmin standing in the middle of the bedroom with his entire chest and stomach bare, arms in the air, and face covered with fabric and mesh.

For a moment, no one says anything.

And then finally, Changmin sighs. “Yunho, if you don’t fucking come over here and fix me I swear I’m calling Hodong-hyung right this minute and telling him my schedule is suddenly a lot more open since I’ve decided to go solo and leave you alone with fucking…I don’t know _EXO--_ ”

He breaks off with a yelp, voice cracking, as Yunho comes up from behind him and wraps him up in a makeshift hug, lifting him off the damn ground like he’s not going to _break his damn spine_ , and dropping him onto the bed on his front.

Changmin bounces, and goes lightheaded, and is suddenly grateful for his shirt blindfold because _fuck_ if being manhandled isn’t working for him.

Yunho follows him onto the bed, draping the whole length of him across Changmin’s back, and just breathing, mouth warm against Changmin’s nape and cock hard against Changmin’s ass.

“Oh, I _hate_ you,” Changmin gasps out, grabbing at his own sleeves so that he can finally pull himself free and twist for Yunho’s mouth. “I hate you _so much_ \--”

“I thought you loved me,” replies Yunho, in between more searing kisses, and pulls back enough so that Changmin can roll onto his back.

“I _do_ ,” Changmin groans, legs falling apart like he can’t help it. “I do but right now you’re being a _tease_ , Jung Yunho, you asshole.”

“You like it,” purrs Yunho, and kisses him again.

Changmin lets him, falls back against the pillows and sighs, tips his head up so that Yunho can trace the full length of his pulse with his thumbs, and curls a foot against the mattress.

Yunho groans right back into him, hands lifting away so he can drag the leather jacket off, and then rips away from Changmin’s mouth so he can get rid of the shirt.

He’s much nicer with all of his things, and Changmin frowns at him, bemused, knowing full well he’s going to get such a telling to when they arrive in Osaka and have to explain why the mesh part of his outfit has a slight tear.

“You’re thinking too hard,” says Yunho suddenly, right back in Changmin’s face. “Stop that.”

Changmin blinks, going a bit cross eyed, and leans up so he can nip at Yunho’s mouth, then at the line of his jaw.

Yunho moans, going boneless against Changmin in nothing but the leather pants, heart thudding against Changmin’s like a fucking bullet train. “Oh, Changdol, don’t--marks--” says Yunho, but leans into the kisses anyway, until it’s only Changmin’s considerable self control that keep them from being more than told off. From being actively punished by means of Kyungjae-hyung’s disapproving glare and their various stylists’ and coordi-noona’s downtrodden expressions.

Changmin almost growls, possessive like no one’s business suddenly, and more than put off that he can’t show it.

“Later,” Yunho says, almost as if he’s read Changmin’s mind. “Later--after.”

“After,” Changmin agrees, and rolls them.

Yunho fights him a little, gasping, and groaning, and scratching up Changmin’s back like he can’t help himself, but finally, with minimal arrangement, Changmin has them both naked and rutting together like teenagers.

“Lube,” he gasps out, groaning when Yunho gets in a particularly good hip roll. “Co--condoms--”

“We’ve been over this, Changdol, please,” groans Yunho, and kisses Changmin’s jaw. “Oh-- _please_ \--”

“ _Lube_ ,” Changmin repeats, teeth clenched. “Hyung. This is your room.”

“Your room,” Yunho argues, even as he’s fumbling a hand across to the nightstand anyway. “Your room.” His lips pull back a little, a growl rumbling in his chest as he can’t find the damned bottle, and Changmin rolls his hips down hard to make things worse.

“Our room,” he concedes, reaching a hand over to help Yunho.

“Our room,” Yunho agrees, sighing when Changmin finds what he’s looking for and drops it down on his glorious chest. “But what about your room?”

“Also our room,” says Changmin, slicking two fingers and reaching back behind himself with a moan. “Our ceiling.” He tilts his head up. “Our--oh--lamp.” To the side. “Our-- _oh_ \--um.”

“ _Changmin_ ,” whines Yunho, grabbing two handful of Changmin’s ass to punctuate his point. “This is our damn apartment. Stop being a tease.”

Changmin just hisses, overcome, and forces his hips to a standstill.

Yunho watches him with half lidded eyes, sliding his own fingers around Changmin’s wrist and tugging, pulling his fingers free with a smirk.

Changmin gasps at the cold, trying to figure out when Yunho had time to slick himself up, and then ducks his head and moans, eye fluttering shut, because Yunho’s got leverage, and patience, and the proper angle to leave him breathless.

He collapses down against Yunho’s chest, whimpering. “ _Hyung_.”

Yunho hums, flexes his fingers, and then adds another.

Changmin sobs with it, scrambling against the bed for something to hold onto and coming up empty. “ _Hyung_.”

Yunho sighs, gives Changmin’s ass one last pat, before sliding his free hand up to find Changmin’s.

Changmin sighs, and moans, and tries not to shake apart in his arms. “Bastard,” he hisses.

Yunho kisses him, sugar sweet in counter to the rhythm of his fingers. “You _love_ me.”

“Yes,” Changmin says. “Yes. Please. Hyung.” Words are hard. Words are--what are _words_?

Yunho seems to take pity on him, pulling out his fingers, and rolling them onto their sides. “Changdol, I love you,” he says.

Changmin peels open his eyes and sighs, blushing despite himself, and fights the urge to hide his entire face in Yunho’s neck. If he did that, he might actually get them fired. And before a live event and everything.

Instead, he drapes a leg across Yunho’s hips, lips curving up into something of a smirk. “Yunho-yah,” he says, voice purposeful. “I think we should fuck, now.”

Yunho’s smile goes dangerous, his pupils blow wide, and he leans in and kisses Changmin until they’re both gasping for air. “Fine,” he says, into the seal of Changmin’s lips just seconds before he _thrusts_. “But only if you fuck me after.”

And Changmin howls, head thrown back before he can help himself, and it’s only Yunho’s quick thinking and fingers that keep him from coming right there.

“I should have told you I loved you earlier,” Changmin gets out finally, once he feels like he can move again.

Yunho’s making little aborted thrusts with his hips, mouth pressed tightly together, brows pulled close and lashes fluttering, but he zeros in on Changmin’s lips anyway.

“This is way better than friends with benefits style fucking,” Changmin continues, tapping Yunho on the wrist so that he stops strangling his cock. He grabs at his own thigh and pulls, moving so that they slide together more neatly, and so Yunho’s dick drags right against his prostate. “This is better--this is _so_ much better--this is _tons_ better--this is--” He pauses, eyes narrowing, and Yunho fucks him a few times in hopes that he’ll get distracted. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he tells Yunho anyway, close his eyes and leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “Don’t you dare don’t you dare don’t you dare-- _oh_ \--”

“Making _love_ ,” Yunho sighs, and kisses him.

“Sap,” Changmin tries to say, but kisses back.

\--

“I really am sorry, though,” says Changmin, because he’s warm, he’s fucked out, and Yunho’s the big spoon, so it’s not like he has to make eye contact. He can just stare straight at the divot of Yunho’s collarbones, mouth leaving licks of fire at the bare skin there. Or he could have, save the fact that Yunho’s the big spoon, so it’s easy for him to flip them, and pin Changmin, and stare down at his face with oddly serious eyes.

Changmin feels heat lick up his own neck. “Hyung,” he whines. He’d say put me down, but that would be wrong, given he’s pressed entirely into the bed. To the point where nothing of his is down. Everything is up. And interested. And poking at Yunho like they didn’t just fuck for hours.

Yunho notices; his throat bobs.

Something in Changmin’s chest purrs.

“Say that again?” Yunho seems to gather himself, but still looks hesitant, for lack of a better word, like he’s not quite sure he’s going to get an answer. He’s still got Changmin pinned under him, one wrist held loosely by the pillow and the other palming Changmin’s left hip, but his grip’s gone slack. Changmin could absolutely get free.

He doesn’t.

Instead he sighs and falls bonelessly back against the mattress. “I fully admit it’s my fault,” he says to a random spot somewhere over Yunho’s right shoulder. “Like I should have just said it back.”

There’s a beat. Changmin sneaks a peek.

Yunho looks pleased, and then smug, and then devious.

“I love you, I mean,” Changmin continues, still mostly to the swell of Yunho’s shoulder. “I should have told you I love you ages ago.” He licks his lips. “But to be fair you did move out.”

Yunho drops his weight down in a calculated move that has Changmin grunting, groaning, and then hissing when their cocks drag together. “Yeah, well. You’re the one who said we should fuck just so we could sleep.”

Changmin blinks. “No, I’m pretty sure that was you,” he says.

Yunho seems to think that over, eyes crossing a little. “No, it was you,” he says, but he also starts retreating, letting go of Changmin’s wrist and inching himself up and away.

Changmin chases him, getting a leg around his hip and hauling so that they’re pressed tight together like the pages of the book, and then palms Yunho’s spine with one hand, fingers maping each vertebrae so that Yunho’s eyes cross for a completely different reason.

Spines shouldn’t be sexy.

Yunho’s absolutely is.

“That’s because you love my back,” Yunho says promptly, and Changmin hadn’t meant to say that outloud, but fair.

“You’re still the one who said it,” he repeats, and darts in for a quick kiss. “But I really am sorry.”

And he is, so, so sorry. Even though he doesn’t always show it very well. (He’s certainly also going to be sorry when he has to tell Kyuline they were right, and he was wrong, and also maybe please beg off work to help me move back in with Yunho-hyung love you thanks.)

“And I love you, in case that wasn’t clear,” Changmin adds, smiling up at Yunho.

Yunho’s answering smile is blindly. “I love you too,” he says.

Changmin’s heart _thumps_.

“Now what were you saying earlier?”

Changmin’s heart sinks.

“About not saying something?”

Changmin’s heart is _stupid_.

“Making _love_ was it?” Yunho leans in close, pins Changmin harder, breathes right up against the shell of his ear, and when he doesn’t get an answer, puts his teeth into the delicate cartilage and _tugs_.

Changmin’s heart is a _goner_ , Changmin’s heart is _spoiled_ , Changmin’s heart started composing secret wedding vows the moment he heard the words ‘just quit now’--Changmin’s heart never stood a chance.

“You’re the absolute _worst_ , Yunho-yah,” he gasps out, wrapping both arms around Yunho to smother the growl the informality gets him. “Fucking _make love to me_ \--”

“Glady,” Yunho says, and does.

\--

“Oh, fuck you,” says Kyungjae-hyung, after one look at Yunho’s neck. “You cannot be serious.”

Changmin just grins, radiant, and skips around Yunho into the company car.

After a moment, Kyungjae-hyung and Yunho join him, the former still grumbling.

“Can’t you make it less conspicuous?” the man is saying. “Couldn’t you have worn something with a _collar_.”

“No,” Yunho says, but rubs at his neck apologetically anyway. “Sorry--”

“I’m not sorry,” interrupts Changmin. “You said after. I waited until after.”

Yunho grins at him, no doubt thinking about how fabulous after had been, particularly since Changmin spent the entire interview backstage rambling on about his horse thighs making him flush. Yunho’d been shy during the interview, but once they were home, there had been quite a lot of riding jokes, to the point where Changmin wasn’t sure if he was laughing, crying, or _both_ , because Yunho was the actual worst human.

Who loves him.

And who Changmin loves back.

And who spent the entire night riding him to completion like Changmin was the one with the fucking _horse thighs._

Changmin recrosses his legs rather purposefully to keep himself in check.

After had been glorious. They’d barely had enough time to dress this morning before heading to the airport anyway.

And Yunho’s neck isn’t awful. Just. Very, very obvious.

Changmin risks a smirk, safe behind his palm.

Yunho thwacks him gently in the side. “Don’t be smug,” he says.

“Hey.” Changmin rubs at his ribs. “Gentle, you monster.”

“Oh I’m the monster,” says Yunho, grinning. “You’re lucky I’m even _walking_ \--”

“Okay!” Kyungjae-hyung says loudly. “Okay-- _good news_!”

He shoots the two of them very unimpressed looks. “I spoke with Youngmin-seongsaengnim and you won’t be seeing Huang-ssi anymore!”

Changmin stares back at him, mouth open.

A glance to his side shows that Yunho looks much the same.

“Don’t look at me like that--you’re about to be in Japan more than Korea. This is practical.” Kyungjae-hyung pulls out his phone, signaling that’s the end of the conversation.

“I guess it’s only fair,” Changmin says finally, breaking the silence. He doesn’t undo his seatbelt, because he doesn’t have a death wish, but he leans more solidly into Yunho, sighing into his collar bones.

Yunho tilts his head and lets him, humming. “Mmm?”

Changmin nips him in the jaw, and then kisses over the spot. “We’re not really her usual type of client anymore anyway,” he continues, meeting Kyungjae-hyung’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Be it our relationship is fantastic.”

Yunho sighs, and wraps an arm around Changmin’s shoulders. “Changdol,” he groans.

Changmin brings his mouth to the largest spot on his neck and _sucks_.

Yunho _moans_.

Kyungjae-hyung’s phone tumbles into his lap.

Changmin _grins_. He pulls backs, straightens his hair, and licks his lips once, twice, and then once more for good measure. “Right, Hyung?”

Yunho stares back at him, glassy eyed. “Right,” he says. “No problems whatsoever.”

Changmin kisses him, because he can’t help himself, mind game long forgotten.

He hears Kyungjae-hyung sigh, mumble something about them being too cute for how much stress they give him, but he’s much too busy with Yunho’s mouth to care.

“Maybe no one will notice,” Kyungjae-hyung says finally, when they’ve finished collecting their baggage and are on their way out to the car. “Maybe?”

The fans notice.

Yunho wears the largest collar he can possibly find the next morning.

Changmin grins, and tugs at the hem of his t-shirt.

 _Live and Let Live_ indeed.

\--

end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Yunho did show up on [April 3rd](http://wearet-tvxq.com/2013/04/03/21249.html) with a [MASSIVE hickey](http://wearet-tvxq.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/130403_tvxq_airport_yunho_02.jpg) right after the horse thigh interview and then [the day](http://wearet-tvxq.com/2013/04/04/21304.html) after flew out of korea wearing THE LARGEST COLLAR KNOWN TO MAN. And Changmin's shirt did say [live and let live](http://wearet-tvxq.com/2013/04/04/21311.html). YOU'RE WELCOME.
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/160807842535/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)


	11. epilogue: june 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S BEEN A LONG RIDE EVERYONE BUT WE MADE IT.
> 
> I would like to shout out to JasExists for your comments on every chapter, also shout out to Poppy for the cheering, Debs for the very vague counseling on word choice, Jess for the cheering, and Scar for all the editing seriously idk what I would have done without you thank you for going on this journey with me.
> 
> Honorable mention to Vic for being a guiding light even though you’re busy with midterms and graduation so mostly you just helped by existing.
> 
> And lastly everyone who commented and left kudos (I can’t believe we hit the 100 kudos mark)! YOU’RE ALL THE BEST.

 

  **epilogue.** _june 2014_

\--

“You can’t wear it until the 26th,” says Yunho, and stuffs the box into Changmin’s hands.

Changmin blinks at him, and then down at the box, and then back up at him. “Our anniversary was last month?” he says.

Yunho bites his lip, worrying his hands between them. “I know. We had cake.”

Changmin nods, still confused, and then glances down at the box again. It’s orange and leather and expensive, little black motif and the bold, English lettering letting him know that Yunho spent money on him. Even though they don’t do presents.

“Please?” says Yunho. “Promise?”

Changmin opens the box, frowning. “What’s the big deal about the date?” he says, even as his eyes taken in the informational card and the velvet lining. “ _Oh_.”

“Because the 26th was when we first saw Huang-ssi,” says Yunho, even as Changmin abandons his question is favor of picking up the bracelet.

It’s a simple, chain link thing, with a gorgeous toggle clasp and weight to it, and Changmin wants to put it on _instantly_.

But then what Yunho’s saying catches up with him, and he looks up abruptly, heart pounding. “What?”

“The 26th was the first time we saw Huang-ssi,” Yunho says, meeting his eyes full on and smiling at him. His hair is untidy, falling in his face and going slightly dark at the roots, and Changmin wants to take a bite out the top of his head.

He looks like cotton candy.

“So I just. I thought that’s probably our real anniversary,” Yunho continues, smiling some more.

The neck of his shirt is nearly falling off one shoulder in a frankly indecent manner, and Changmin decides not to tell him off for it, because he wants the HD pap photos immortalized forever for his own selfish reasons.

“Like. Not the one Huang-ssi sends cards on.” Yunho smirks, amused, because Changmin’d been in Saipan when the last one came, and Yunho home in Gwangju, so it was their new manager who’d seen it, and nearly had a heart attack thinking some strange fan had found out about the two of them.

“Ah,” Changmin says, still grinning, and slides the bracelet onto his non dominant hand, considering. “It’s good,” he says, testing it out with movements, and then looks up. “Thank you--Yunho?”

Yunho’s gone pink, eyes caught on the glint of the bracelet around Changmin’s list, and tongue peeking out from behind his teeth. “You’re. You’re wearing it on your wedding hand,” he says finally, voice very faint.

Changmin blinks down at his wrist, mouth a small ‘o.’ “Oh,” he says, somewhat redundantly. “Yes?”

“Don’t take it off,” Yunho says suddenly, voice hoarse. “Forget what I said about anniversaries. Our real one’s probably like March anyway, and then we have all the TVXQ ones and the when we first met ones so it’s. It’s not important.”

Changmin watches him, mouth quirked at the corners, and adds June 23th 2014 to his long list of Yunho anniversaries. And then he gives himself a shake, since it’s way too early for this level of sap. “Hyung,” he says.

Yunho’s mouth snaps shut.

“Thank you.” He presses quick kiss to Yunho’s mouth. “Now go pack--Manager-hyungdeul are going to _yell_ at you if they get here and you’re still in your pajamas--”

“I’m wearing these home,” Yunho says, pulling at the material of Changmin’s sweatpants. “Strip.”

Changmin protests, but mostly for show, and lets Yunho divest him of his pants anyway, grinning unabashedly back at him when it’s revealed he’s wearing nothing underneath. “Oops?” says Changmin.

Yunho groans, and growls, and drops the pants on the floor so that he can kiss him. “Gosh, Changmin, you’re such a _tease_ ,” he says, and then someone knocks on the door.

“Please be decent!” It’s Jaeyoung-hyung, looking incredibly unamused when he opens the door to find only a blanket preserving Changmin’s modesty, and Yunho still clutching him by the shoulders wearing his pajamas. “Fuck you,” the man says.

Changmin grins back at him, still unabashed. “Kyungjae-hyung would be so proud.”

Yunho giggles at him, giving him one last peck on the mouth, before grabbing the sweatpants off the floor. He makes a show of shimmying into them, never taking his eyes off Changmin for the entire process, and by the end of it Jaeyoung-hyung is pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“Changmin-ah,” he says. “Is that new jewelry?”

Changmin lifts his wrist, tilts his head, and tries not to preen too much when Yunho makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat. “Do you like it?” he says.

Jaeyoung-hyung opens his mouth.

“Yunho-hyung gave it to me,” he says quickly. “For our anniversary.”

Yunho makes another punched in the gut noise, and finished shoving his clothes haphazardly into a suitcase. “Ready,” he says.

Jaeyoung-hyung lets out a long, drawn out sigh. “Hermes?” he says, nodding towards the box. “You got seen there on New Year’s. Tell me it’s not a set.”

This time it’s Changmin making the punched out noise, glancing helplessly between the two of them before he can help himself. He likes the thought of walking around wearing a secret gift from Yunho, but he likes the thought of Yunho walking around wearing a matching bracelet even _more_.

“No.” Yunho could not be less convincing.

Jaeyoung-hyung lifts an eyebrow.

“I won’t wear it in public?”

Changmin makes a wounded noise, but Yunho doesn’t budge.

Jaeyoung-hyung glances between the two of them, and then sighs. “Fine,” he says. “You two are lucky you’re so profitable.”

“Hey!” Changmin says, getting to his feet, forgetting he’s naked under the blanket and giving their manger quite the eyeful. “We’re more than just profitable--”

“You’re naked, is what you are, Changmin-ah, please,” says Jaeyoung-hyung, both hands covering his face, and Yunho just rolls his eyes and helps steer the man out of their apartment.

“Bye, Changdol,” he calls over his shoulder. “Happy Anniversary!”

“I thought you said it was the 26th!” Changmin calls back, rolling his eyes, and goes in search of his own pair of sweatpants in Yunho’s pants drawer.

He doesn’t take it off, wears it straight out of the airport on the 25th, and then just.

Keeps wearing it.

\--

End, end. Or.

 

 

 

 

\--

 **epilogue _two_. ** _late 2014, maybe_

\--

“Hey. Huang. Why do you have Tohoshinki on your phone.?”

“What?”

“Tohoshinki. The band? Why have you got a photo of them on your phone?”

“What band. Toho what? What are you talking about-?”

“This. This is Tohoshinki. And you. You and Tohoshinki. What the _fuck_?”

“No--that’s Yunho and Changmin. I worked with them in 2012 and 2013. Real success story. They send me flowers every so often. I’m expecting a wedding invite eventually. When it’s legal.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“What?”

“That’s _Tohoshinki._ Yunho and Changmin are _Tohoshinki._ You counseled fucking _Tohoshinki_ \-- _Tohoshinki are dating_ \--”

“What are you even talking about--what’s Tohoshinki, look, they’re not--”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“That’s--”

“Yep.”

“And I--”

“ _Yep_.”

“And _they--_ ”

“YEP.”

“I’m going to _kill them they let me think they were part of a traveling acapella group--!_ ”

“Ye--what--?”

“Changmin fucking let me believe they did _group yoga--_ THEY DISAPPEARED TO JAPAN FOR LIKE WEEKS ON END--”

“Huang. Huang. Are you--”

“I’M GOING TO KILL THEM--!”

\--

End for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/160807842535/title-viva-my-life-started-to-shine) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885521723612901378)
> 
> Please reblog it! I was coerced into putting it on Twitter also SO RETWEET LIKE IT TOO AND I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. 
> 
> (Also, there were more than one occasion where they flew back to South Korea for NO REASON and I seriously sat down like ‘have i. discovered the truth with my arbitrarily selected Tuesday in June what do you mean Changmin showed up wearing the bracelet on the 25th and i chose the 26th WHO SAID THAT.)


End file.
